Hopeless, Inconsolable World
by thefunbrigade
Summary: He is a monster, a demon in mans clothing. She was nothing more than broken, stumbling down into the pits of hell, neither one of them knew... never saw it coming, how human they both actually are. Bane/OC
1. Capsized

So this is my first Bane story, and its something that I haven't been able to get out of my head, so I decided to write about it:) I do want to say, that though it is a romance, its not the kind that's going to happen super fast, with a Bane turning all soft and mushy, nor is he going to be physically abusive or sexually abusive. Its a dark story, with a heavy them of domestic violence and PTSD from the OC's perspective. She may come across as weak or a push over, but she isn't. Her strength lies behind her own weakness if that makes any sense. Like you here sometimes, courage does not come from being fearless, but being scared and facing your fears anyway. Anyhoo, Im going to leave it at that folks, I hope you enjoy:)

PS- I don't have a Beta reader, so I apolagize for any errors. I'm trying to catch them but some always slip through.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

><p>"Charting a map of landmines, asleep in the settling dust.<p>

How come we never remember how many times we pick ourselves up" - Sarah Slean.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

* * *

><p>The skies here are bleak and grey. A deep over cast of pregnant clouds blot out the sunlight; threatening with a rain that will wash itself over a concrete and steel city that can never be clean. Evil lives here. In every black shadow and broken down building, in every doorway and alley. There is no safety to be found, the light is false and florescent, it will not chase away the monsters that swarm and devour those who have some how managed to hold on to their innocence. This is a city of decay; a city rotting with a cancer of crime and animals, men and woman who thrive in the depths of deprivation and violence. This is a city where the hopeless and victimized can find no shelter; the police and government are wormed with blackened spirits, a state of being that surpasses the word corrupt, their own malignancy has turned them into soulless, cruel monsters. No one is safe, and not even the fleeting shadow of one masked crusader can drag the helpless from their clutches. A girl, with a youthful, world weary face, knows this. She knows what horrors walk the concrete streets at night. That walk them during the hazy, smog washed light of day. Her fear is a constant, ever present hum within her chest as she makes the routine journey from work to home. Her pace is quick and brisk, unwilling to linger she rushes, her eyes wide as they remain alert to the masses around her, pushing her small frame forward, arms tight around her body, small, smaller. Its funny, she thinks in a way that is most certainly,not humorous. How long she has lived in fear, and how much something like fear can change. Once upon a time, her fear had simply been of the unknown, of robbers and rapists and the usual drag and crime of her fair city, then it changed. Fear and evil had wormed its way into her life, an insidious snake writhing and swelling beneath the thinly skinned surface of a love that was not love... The girl frowns, lost in her thoughts as she twists her keys into the lock of her apartment building, the city silenced behind her as she pads soft footed to the elevator doors. A love that was not love, yet she had believed, she had been fooled. She had grasped at this love with a tight, white knuckled desperation. She had believed she was safe, until the moment the rug and been so ceremoniously ripped from beneath her feet and the safe love was torn away, cut from within her chest, and she had no warning, no way to protect herself. It had happened so fast, and so slowly at the same time. She just hadn't seen it, not till it was to late, not till the devils grip began to drown her.<br>It was different now, she thinks with a sigh, bolting the heavy wooden door and shrugging out of her coat and boots. It is different now, and again she reminds herself to be grateful, that it could be so, so much worse than being alone... Alone is better, always better.

Wide, drawn, bloodshot hazel eyes snapped open with a nauseating start. Her heart hammering from beneath the bones of her breast as the girl tries to hear... Tries to figure out what had woken her from her sleep... Her ears though, for a moment, meet nothing but silence and she almost lowers herself back to the calling warmth of her blankets, almost gives in till a small sound gives way from her dark living room and her poor heart begins its assault anew. Fear now driving its painful drums as she stops breathing altogether. Her eyes seek out shapes in the nights blackness, but whatever is making the small noise is not in her room, but the room still just beyond her door.  
>Her first thought is intruder, some low life junkie breaking into her apartment in search of something sellable, which in itself is frightening enough, but when the door handle of her bedroom door moves, jiggling the lock she had engaged earlier, different thoughts start to creep in. And just as she's reminding herself that's its impossible, that there's no way he could have found her, not after all this time, the door explodes in, erupting from its hinges in a firing spray of splinters. She screams, leaping from the bed as the shadow she knows stands tall, black eyes glinting as he smiles. The gesture barely visible through the soft, yellow light filtering in through her parted curtains.<br>"S-stay back" she breathes out, her voice small and strained, cracks beneath the pressure as her throat closes painfully, her breathing heavy and erratic as ice and fire light through her veins.  
>The shadow of him laughs, the half illumination from the street lamps makes him so, so much more sinister.<br>"Do you know, how fucking long it took for me to find you doll" his voice almost jovial as he moves slowly, one assured foot in front of the other; walking around the large bed in the middle of her room, and she wont move from in front of the bedside table. She can't, even as he gets closer. Her only hope of survival resides on the surface just below that sweating pad of one shaking hand.  
>"Why did you run, huh?" he asks, and she can see him raise his arms in questions, but he doesn't want an answer, not from her. No, he wants to release his rage.<br>"I gave your stupid cunt everything! And you left me!" his voice, like so many times before rose with each word he uttered, with each step he took closer to her withering, shaking frame, "you're mine! Mine!" he screams now, nearly five feet before her and she swallows down the tears, her eyes glisten in the darkness but don't fall, she can't let herself break now, she has prepared for this moment a thousand times in her mind,and in one full breath, encased the steel in her palm and swings it out in front of her.  
>He freezes in his path, momentarily surprised by the sight of this girl, small and shaking with a big old gun in her hands. He laughs.<br>"Are you gonna shoot me doll face, bet you'd like that huh, could go back to fucking all the guys you want, be the whore you are huh" he taunts her, completely convinced that the little mouse will not pull the trigger. The girl pushes backwards as he starts to close the ground between them, the base of her spine pushing painfully against the wood of her table. Shoot him! She screams inside her head, but her hands are so heavy, so tired and she's so scared, nearly paralyzed by this nightmare, and before she knows what's happening he smacks her hand away before rearing his other fist up, crashing down upon her face a second later. NO! Her mind screams, pain erupting within her skull as her vision flashes like a white lighting and she grips the gun tighter, rolling onto the bed to escape his grasp. He jumps at her again, his hand instinctively goes for her throat, clenching and gripping her tightly, and she can't breath. Her first instinct is to grab at him but then she remembers that which he has obviously forgotten as he leans over her suffocating body, snarling into her face and screams unintelligibly, spit hitting the burning red skin of her cheeks as she raises the gun with her left hand. It shakes and trembles, drooping as her vision begins to melt into the dark room around them. And just as she's about to plummet, just as he is about to finally enact the threat that has passed his lips for so long she pulls the trigger, the bark of gun fire, a single shot explodes around them, rings in her ears. He jerks violently, the impact to his head sends him hurtling to the floor, thrown from her own body in a spray of dark red blood and brain matter. She screams again, her voice splitting before failing her completely. -  
>The girl dry heaved, retching painfully, as the light shed by the lamp she'd turned on, revealed in all its horror the crime she had committed. Instantly turning her empty stomach on its head. But she had to move. A new urgency enveloped her heart as she pulled herself to her quaking legs. Fear changing again as thoughts of police filled her mind. The gun shot had been loud, more than loud, and despite the fact that such sounds were more than common around here she would not risk the thought of it going unnoticed. To be caught by the authorities would be a bad thing, self-defense or not, she would go to prison. In lieu of this knowledge, the girl flung herself across her bed, avoiding the bloody mess, keeping to the opposite wall and began to stuff a blue back pack with clothing, a little money she had stuffed in a drawer and the gun. That was it, that was all she could afford to take, and she shrugged on a pair of worn leather boots over yesterdays tights, left on the white tank top despite the blood staining it now and pulled into the warmth of her coat, hulled the pack over her shoulders and ran from her home. Keeping her eyes to the floor the girl took the stairs nearly two at a time, rushing as fast a she could without falling, desperate for the shroud of night and the cold air that blasted at the pale skin of her face as she pushed outside the front doors. She stands for a moment, alone and lost beneath a never-ending black sky. She doesn't know where to go, there's no one to turn to and for a brief moment she thinks maybe she should just wait for the cops, plead her case and hope for the best. She shakes her head then, mad at her own stupidity, then sets off down the street. Eyes once again, watching the dark around her for hidden threats, her body a live wire of anxiety and fright, her heart pounding beneath her breast as she tunes down one street then another, wondering if the sirens she hears in the distance are her imagination or not. Then tells herself it doesn't matter anymore. Soon she slows a little, her legs shaking from exhaustion. She wants to just sit down but she can't, not here, not so... So out in the open. She knows how vulnerable she is, even with the gun. Her eyes roam her surrounds, from across the street, to the parked cars and the nights other stragglers, to the alley way next to her. Its depths are an impenetrable blackness but her attention is drawn to a grate cut into the concrete and her heart twitches in its bruising rhythm.<br>The sewers.  
>Now, to any normal, sane person, this would seem like a terrible idea, especially in a city like this one. It would be suicide to venture down there, wouldn't it? Most would say yes, but to her, it seemed like sanctuary. Knowing that the cops rarely if ever ventured down into the bowls of her city... Escape, refuge. She could hide down there, come up for food and what not when things died down a little, she could be okay there, if only to give her the time to figure out what she was going to do. The girls lips set in a firm line as she takes a few unsure steps towards the man hole residing in the middle of the ally way, to the left of the grate she had spotted moments before. Her eyes flicking between its riveted surface and the encompassing shadows of the listless space. Now or never, she says to herself, and crouches, pushing her fingers into the grooved handle and pulled. And pulled... "fucking heavy", she breathes out, bracing her feet on either side of the cover and pulled again, elated at the scraping sound that breaks the silence. She pushes it the rest of the way open, at least enough to slip through.<br>The girl eyes the blackness that made the night around her seem so much more grey with its presence, rising fear now mixing with the torrent of emotion boiling within her.  
>But she can't stop now, and with one last glance over her shoulder, making sure she remains unseen, the girl slowly lowers one foot in, finding its purchase on a rung of a ladder, then the other, then she climes down just deep enough so she can somewhat maneuver the cover back into position, its heavier from this angle, and impossible to place properly with one hand so she leaves it and continues down eyes wide and unseeing in the space around her. She can hear water somewhere, trickling and running, but its distant as she reaches the bottom, gripping the ladder rungs tighter in her arms as one foot dangles in the air for a moment before her toes touch ground.<p>

She follows the sounds of water. At least, she thinks she is, with one hand splayed upon the damp stone to her right she follows the curving tunnels, hoping at each bend to find some kind of alcove, or doorway that she could clamber into and remain invisible, at least to sleep for a moment or two. But none come, just more smooth walls, occasionally breaking off into different avenues, none she dare venture down. She didn't know how much longer she had been traveling, when the first sounds began to filter through the silence. At first it had frozen her, her ears staring past the beat of her heart to figure out what it was she was hearing, but at that point the noise was not discernible, and after a few minutes she began to move again, though slower and more quietly. Each foot step placed carefully in front of the other as she hugged the wall, then it got louder and she knew at once what it was. Laughter.  
>Her brows furrowed in confusion, laughter being the last thing she expected to find down here, and by the tenor of such noise, it was men's laughter. She thought of going back, of turning around and trying to go down one of the other branches, but the idea died relatively fast, knowing that this maze covered all of the city, she would be lost for sure, and would probably die of starvation... But what fate waited for her up ahead? That was the question, and she couldn't help the many possible answers from lighting across the backs of her eye lids... Nothing good, but what if... And it was that if, that one small if that pressed her forward, what if they could at least help her, point her in the right direction?<br>On some level, she knew how incredibly stupid and nieve she was being, but at this point, she wasn't sure how much she cared. She needed to stop, to rest, to... To whatever. Her brain was having trouble now, feeling muddled and cloudy, a wave of exhaustion washing over her as she pushed on. It was then, rounding the next corner that the dim, dark light grew, becoming soft and warm and the laughter was voices, and by the sound of it... Two men talking animatedly among themselves.  
>If she had been more in her right mind, she would have wondered at them being down here at all, it certainly wasn't a place to simply stroll about. But she didn't wonder, she didn't think even as she walked around the bend and directly into their line of sight.<br>At first all she saw was to grubby looking guys, smiles falling from their faces as they saw her, it wasn't until they raised their weapons that her mind snapped her to attention, screaming at her own foolishness, her own carelessness.  
>"Who are you" the man on the right snapped at her, the anger in his accented voice made her flinch, her eyes moving to his scruffy face, then to the glinting barrel of his riffle.<br>"What's your name?" His friend silently watches, his eyes never leaving her body. That gaze feels like oil on her skin and she squirms, forcing her attention to the man speaking.  
>"M-May" her voice sounds so small next to there's, next to the darkness; small and weak and she hunches her shoulders, unconsciously trying to make her self smaller, trying to disappear.<br>The man who spoke steps forward suddenly, his steps wide and he's in her face before she has a chance to breathe, stepping back and jerking her body from his grasp but its useless as one hand clamps down on her wrist and tugs on her forcefully. She whimpers a little, before growling with frustration and panic and pulls again.  
>"Let me go, please... I just... fuck!" she snaps as he begins to pull her down the way him and his friend had come, and May begins to freak out. Her breaths turn to gasps as panic stole the air from her lungs, her hand going numb beneath the iron grip of her captor.<br>"Stop whining" the mans friend barks, apparently exasperated with her protests, but what did he expect, and with a sudden surge of anger heightened fear she begins to wrench with renewed vigor, but the man dragging her seems undeterred, even unperturbed by her actions and its a moment later that May stops altogether.  
>The room she is taken to is some kind of chamber, large with connecting alleys and tunnels, platforms and piping, and just off to the right is the sound of water she presumes she had been following. She doesn't know what to call it, but the great rushing flows tell her that this is the heart of the sewers, a large round hole off to the north of this chamber, which the water flows beneath into the aqua ducks and thought the drain pipes.<br>But it is not this that nearly stops her heart, no, it is the mass of ragged, armed men that are now staring at her, some with curious expression, others with blank, emotionless faces, but its the other, more leering gazes that begin to crawl beneath her skin and she thinks now, that this had indeed been a terrible idea.  
>The two men who had found her don't stop here, instead they turn right, towards the flowing water and to the back of the large wide room. May is about to scream at them, the words building in her throat, pushing at the back of her teeth as her free hand grabs again at the mans, trying in vain to pull him from her skin, but those words die on her tongue before they are born and she is left standing behind them, staring as the face of fear changes again.<p>

And this time, fear wears a mask.


	2. Monsters

"I was lost in a void of perpetual darkness. Disconnected from myself.

Turned inside out. No sign of life. Eventually, the darkness was my light and the void a haven –

a quiet place where I could nurse my secret and lick my wounds." - Unknown.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

The man she had been led to was the embodiment of power, she could see that instantly. His size and girth alone put all else around him down, with out even trying. He was all beautiful muscle and violence; she could read it him, in his posture, in the hard glint of his eyes... In the strange, frightening mask that obscured most of his face from all else.

A monster... And May was scared. Her knees shaking as her attempts to free herself fell away. She would die here, she thinks, her eyes now staring, burning holes into the wet concrete beneath her boots.  
>The man gripping her shifts on his feet, he's looking anywhere but in the giants eyes, and when he speaks, his voice wavers. And she knows then, that these men... His men, fear him to.<br>"Found her in the tunnels sir... She was, ah, she was getting pretty close to us...says her names May" the giant eyes bore into the man for a moment before flicking to her own, instinctively she takes a step back, but she can't look away, her gaze drawn and hooked into his own, even as her body begins to shake like her legs.  
>"May... And who might you be" his voice is unexpected, strange, deep and rough and lilted all at the same time, a metallic rasp to every word. It was strange and captivating in the most frightening way possible. And for that moment May couldn't even begin of think of a response... Till the man holding her elbowed her hard in the ribs, the bright flair of pain snapping her out of the fog.<br>"Uh...May, Evans...I- I wasn't... I didn't know about... This" she stutters, looking around her... Her mind whirling to come up with an explanation that will preserve her life, when she feels her backpack being pulled from her shoulders, the man behind her searches through it, and for a brief second May's heart lurches anew at the thought of him finding the gun, but when he pulls his hand he;s holding something else entirely.  
>May's head turns down, frowning as she looks at her name tag, dangling in the mans free hand, her unsmiling picture stares somewhere of in the distance as he reads the name of the hospital she worked at. Something about this unnerved her, but it wasn't until he smiled did she recoil again, and was stopped as he pulled her back towards them.<br>"Hey, check this out sir" his voice is more confident now, like he had an offer that would stave off any impending aggression from their leader, the leader who was now looking curiously at the name tag.  
>"Gotham General" his eyes locked to hers again and May swallowed, "are you a nurse, Miss Evans?" His formality sounds strange, she thinks, expecting a much ruff-er, slang-ed way of speaking to come from the master of a band of cut throats and thieves, if she was presuming correctly, but really, who else congregated with guns in the city sewers? May frowned, pushing the thought away, deciding that being difficult in the face of a man like this was not a good idea.<br>"Y-yes... Nothing special...i-uh, I'm, I work in the ER" worked, her mind sneers at her an May pushes it away too, refusing, despite her fear, to cave completely to the thought of never leaving this place.  
>"Hmmm... And why, would a nurse, be wandering around the sewers?" he tilted his head, his sarcasm evident in his tone of voice. What could she say to that? The truth? She almost scoffed at that thought, not only would they not care, they probably wouldn't even believe her... So what was believable?<br>"I needed... I needed to get away" there, she thinks, vague is always better, neither confirming nor denying anything, always better, not to mention the blood now drying thick on her shirt, hidden beneath her coat, or the bruise darkening her cheek, her throat. It all paints a picture, and she only hopes that it is enough.  
>The giants eyes narrowed dangerously at her and May had the sudden feeling that he knew, that somehow he could see the full spectrum of her truth. He straightened then, his full height was staggering and May felt completely cowed beneath the weight of his presence.<br>"Lock her up for now."  
>The man gripping her arm tugged her way suddenly and May turned her head to watch after their leader, angered by his command at the same time she was relieved for it. At least he wasn't simply killing her.<br>Men watched from around them as the man dragged her across the chamber, not that far from where they had just been, to an elevated landing, about 15 feet long and 4 feet wide, a steel railing and chained shut door. Judging by the stained, soiled mattress laying haphazardly near the end of the platform this had been used as a sleeping quarters of sorts.  
>The man gripping her pushed may to the mattress roughly and instantly she back peddled, pressing her shoulder blades harshly into the concrete wall behind her as he pulled out a set of cuffs and quiet literally, locked her up. Cuffing her left hand to the lower bar of the railing next to them considerably tighter than he needed to. He didn't spare any words as he stood, casting one more unreadable look down at her wide fearful eyes before finally leaving her.<br>Mays breathing quickened, as her eyes followed the mans path back into the throng of men, most of which had gone back to doing whatever it is they had been doing... Others though, mostly the ones with the leering gazes, kept there eyes on her through veiled sideways glances. And she shivered, her quick breaths turning to gasping gulps of damp air. Her heart squeezing in her chest as she rubbed at her chained wrist subconsciously. Fuck, fuck, fuck...she Thinks, the word spinning through her panicking mind like some morbid, foul mantra. She was now, well and truly fucked, running from one mad mans hands and straight into another's... Maybe Black Gate prison would haven been better.

Hours had droned by, and May had begun to cry. No sobbing, mind you, no heaving back or mournful wails. Her tears were silent, burning drops that rolled down the skin of her cheeks, but she wasn't sure how much of this was from her current situation, her previous situation, or the ache throbbing from her left arm. Whatever it was, she just wanted the pain to stop.  
>Shifting again on the small mattress, letting her cuffed arm rest on her knee May looked around the chamber, watching some of the men clean their weapons of play some card games, or sleep. Sleep, that would be nice, but May didn't even bother trying that, despite the short reprieve unconsciousness would bring her, she wouldn't be able to relax without worrying about one of them coming over here; that and sleep was hard to come by when she wasn't being held prisoner to a bunch of ruffians.<br>Movement close to her position brought May from her thoughts, her gaze zeroing in on a man she had not met yet. His face scruffy with a sparse beard like many of his comrades, his lips set in a thin unhappy line as he walked briskly towards her. May would have been frightened of this, had he not had a steaming bowl of something in his hands. Even the smell of it, a little bland and starchy, set her stomach howling.  
>He didn't say anything as he climbed the few steps to the landing, but he slowed as he approached her. His eyes taking in the swelling bruised skin around her blood-shot eyes then shifting to the bright red and nearly lacerated skin of her wrist, and his frown deepened. May watched him with trepidation, her heart beating a little faster at his proximity, he seemed to be thinking over something for moment before crouching down to her level and setting the bowl of food down, now that she could see it, appeared to be rice mixed with some kind of meat, and her stomach growled even louder.<br>The man placed the bowl on the cement before her, silent still as he continued to... To what, assess her? That's what it felt like he was doing anyway. May watched him watch her, discomfort and a deep aching pain causing her to shift again, then he was up and walking away leaving a sickening mix of fear and sickening anxiety boiling in her gut.  
>May sighs, lowering her gaze down to the food her brought her, staring at the little plastic fork jutting out from the side, and it seemed like such a strange thing in that moment. This food, that fork, it was so normal. And her life, how ever much of it she had left, was anything but normal.<p>

Four long, arduous hours passed before the man who chained her up came back to collect the now empty dish. May watching him with guarded eyes as he approached. The same grim expression growing more severe as his grey eyes lighted once more upon her; again moving from the darkening bruises on her face to the inflamed raw skin of her wrist. May was surprised when the man spoke next, crouching down in front of her huddled body to pick up the dish, his strange accent breaking her small bubble of silence.  
>"The bruise..." He says, pointing with one finger at her, "did the men who brought you here do that?".<br>May frowns, looking away from him for a moment as she tries to reason why he would ask this, why he even cares. She is nothing but a prisoner to them, isn't that what the bad guys do to prisoners? Rough them up? Well, whatever the reason, he needn't worry.  
>"No" is all she supplies, looking down at the short, dirty fingernails of her free hand, ashamed at how weak and tired she sounds and all the while hoping he doesn't reach for a broader explanation.<br>The man nods silently as he thinks about this, still crouched, still not leaving.  
>"I believe that, your previous profession will be of great use to us... You will remain here, but I will tell you, you will remain like this" he says to May;s grinding fear, realizing what's happening before he even finishes what he's about to say as he points to the cuffs, " if you try to flee. Prove yourself in this regard and I will remove your them." he pauses again, thinking over his words carefully as May listens, unable at the moment, to even protest, "acceptance in this is paramount, you will not make it out alive if you run."<br>Her mind spun, even though these are things she had been thinking over quit heavily for the last few hours, but something about hearing it aloud made it real, made concrete, and again she is trapped. She wants to cry out at this, at how cruel life is, throwing her from one prison into another. Her mind suddenly drifts back to what brought her here and the sudden urge to scream is nearly over powering, but, like so much else, she swallows it. The man relaying her sentence is still waiting for her response.  
>"I understand" she whispers out, the words painful in her mouth, and she hates how easy submission is for her, she hates herself for her weakness.<br>"Good" he says, though no smile breaks through his lips, "I am Barsad, and for the most part you will deal with me, unless he needs you" he, May thinks she knows who this he is, as stark images of his looming form and thick, roping massive muscle flit through her mind, followed by the sudden and peculiar thought that she wouldn't mind getting another look at him. May wants to slap herself for this, the sudden, foreign, random thought making her feel truly insane; she shouldn't be the least inclined to think anything remotely close to this about THAT man. Let alone any man, considering she can't get close to any without becoming a nervous wreck.  
>Barsad, it seems, takes her continued silence as acceptance and stands, putting an end to their conversation as he leaves her to dwell in her own mind, forcing the giant from her mind; which, it turns out, isn't hard as memories from the evening before take his place and now all she can see is blood. It's so clear that she can smell it, a metallic tang that over rides the dank, sour air around her, and her heart darkness even more, like a heavy pit that throbs in her gut. Though she holds no guilt for what she had done. Knowing full well that she'd be dead now, if not for her actions. But this doesn't stop the throbbing ache in her chest, it doesn't stop the pain... Nothing ever stops the pain.<p>

Mays eyes snap open, her mind reeling as her heart thunders within her breast. The sudden jolt from her light dose is disorienting and for the briefest of moments she has forgotten... Everything, until a loud, echoing shout brings her to the present. Someone is yelling at her, and she doesn't understand, looking down to the chamber around her, what once had been a bunch of men simply lounging about is now chaos. Barsad appears suddenly and May jumps, sliding back towards the wall again as her wrists wrenches painfully against the cuff. He's breathing hard, his eyes are hard, accentuated by a deep crease in his forehead and for a second May thinking he's going to kill her, till he pulls a set of keys from his pants pocket and unlocks her from her bindings.  
>She doesn't move as the cuffs fall to the floor, her wide eyes locked onto Barsad as he stands, motioning her to follow.<br>"Come. Now, you're expertise is required"  
>May doesn't hesitate as she pulls herself awkwardly to her feet, legs still an aching, trembling mess below her, but she follows him none the less. Down from her perch and into the mess of men, most of whom, she realizes now, are running out into the tunnels, others are returning, and that's when she sees it. Blood. A dark crimson dripping from a few of their bodies, staining the cement at their feet.<br>She is led to a small room off the man chamber, an old set of pumps and dials and closed gates line the back wall but she doesn't see this, not with the two cots in the center, and the two men bleeding out on top of them.  
>"Jesus Christ" she whispers beneath her breath, and something clicks in her mind. A shift, small but enough to dampen her roaring anxiety as her medical training takes over.<p>

Without waiting for a command, May rushes to the man closest to her, instantly un-buckling what she assumes is some kind of bullet proof vest before un-zipping his coat. The wound he has sustained she thinks is a gunshot.. There's a large, torn entry wound, and judging from the amount of blood pooling beneath him, an exit as well locked in the soft tissue of his abdomen just below the hem of his vest.  
>May takes a deep breath, trying to still her trembling hands as she turns to Barsad.<br>"I need a first aid kit, something with sutures and scissors, antiseptic wash and large bandages"  
>The man nods, neither of them commenting on how she just ordered him to do something and its moments later as she waits with her hand pressed to his stomach that Barsad returns, a large box in his arms.<br>May leaves her ward as he places the box at her feet, Barsad leaving her to this as he goes to check on the second man whose calf has been shot. Another through and through.  
>May wants to smile at the contents, aside from any local anesthetics, it has practically everything she'd need to work with as long as it wasn't anything more than minor surgery.<p>

"OK" she says a loud, wiping the blood from her hands as best she can on her tights before pulling a pair of standard blue gloves on, then grabs a suture kit and wipes, and gets to work.

An hour and a half passes, as she works in a diligent silence. Moving from one man to the next as she closes their wounds, worrying over the first man as she tells the second that he'll make a full recovery.  
>"What of him" Barsad asks, nudging his jaw in the still unconscious mans direction. When May looks to him her heart sinks, though she won't wonder till later why this wasn't something that she thought was good? The more of them down the better? But she doesn't think this, not as worry ebbs at her.<br>"Wait and see... Without an MRI its impossible to tell what's been damaged inside, and the amount of blood he's lost is bad"  
>She doesn't elaborate as Barsad nods his understanding, pulling away from the wall he'd been leaning on as he gestures for her to grab the box and follow him. To which she does, frowning, thinking she should be here... To at least monitor these men. But she doesn't argue.<br>The commotion has calmed in the time that has passed, men milling about again like nothing bad had occurred. And now May begins to wonder, what exactly had happened in the first place to get two men shot. She's about to ask her escort, the words on the tip of her tongue as she shifts the box's growing weight in her arms until she realizes where it is exactly that she is being led. May doesn't utter a thing. Not as her eyes cement themselves onto the massive, mountain of their leader, hunched over as he is. Thick bulging shoulders globed forward as he faces away from them, not turning, untill Barsad says his name... And she can't stop from thinking, what a someone must have done to earn such a title.  
>"Bane..."<br>Bane, as he is called, sighs heavily, the sound is loud and strange as it filters through his mask. Then he stands, shoulders rolling as muscle gilds over bone, coming to stand tall and powerful. Like a Greek god brought to life through the power of some ancient devil. Beautiful, dark, and evil. May blushes, her eyes still on his back, trailing over the faint and daunting scars that line and cross his expanse, hating herself as shame bubbles within her for thinking like this, again.  
>Then he turns, and her eyes widen again, this time as she takes in the blood splattering his bare chest, the deep red a stark contrast to his lightly tanned skin.<br>"She has done well" Barsad says to him, but Banes eyes don't move from her face as he frowns down at her.  
>May wants to leave now, wounded or not, she does not want to treat him. She doesn't want anywhere near him Despite the underlying draw her betraying eyes seem to have to him, she doesn't want to do this, an her stomach rolls and flops, her skin prickling cold as Barsad pushes her forward, then leaves and damn her for wishing that man would at least stay like he did with the others patients.<p>

Mays eyes stay locked on him as Bane moves towards his own cot, each step slow and sure, powerful. And she wishes she had the balls to run, as she starts to panic. _Chill out__! __Don't loose your shit now._  
>"Come" is all he says, but the command is unwavering as he sits. Back straight, watching her with the most unreadablly cold expression. May tries to calm her breathing, tries to slow the heaving beating drums of her heart as she forces her feet to move. She needs to calm down, if she plans on making his injury better and not worse. Knowing somehow that her performance in this regard is detrimental to her continued survival.<p>

Before she knows it she's standing before him, and her breathing quickens and shallows, her heart thudding away, and those damning drums in her ears are so loud. Thinking he must be able to hear this as she pulls on a new pair of gloves over her still shaking hands.  
>"Take a moment" he says, the deep metallic ring of his voices startles May and she winces.<br>"What?" she breathes out, jumping at the sound of his voice so close to her now. Rough like gravel and sand paper, and all the while seasoned by something strange and foreign.  
>Bane glances at her, watching Mays face before continuing, "You are in distress, take a moment to calm yourself"<br>'Ah' she thinks, her cheeks burning a little with embarrassment, though despite his words, they do nothing to quell her fear of him. But she does try, taking deep breaths to steady her nerves as she opens a new pack of antiseptic wipes.

Steeling herself as she turns to him. Trying to ignore his scent as it assaults her. She wonders briefly, as she slowly with tentative hands, begins to wipe away the thick blood from his skin. Why the smell of him isn't bothering her... Isn't repelling. No, something about the strange mix of sweat and earth and smoke warms her, in a weird, wrong sort of way. _Don't go there_, she thinks, forcing herself to focus, and sighs softly, cleaning the entrance wound that's still bleeding beneath his collar bone.

It's wrong, on some fundamental level... He's the bad guy, the villain, the one responsible for her current predicament... Or at least the part where she can't leave in the same good health that she came with. She can feel his eyes on her again, burning into the pale flesh of her face as she turns from him, placing the used wipes back into the wrapper to dispose of later and opens a sterilized pack of long tweezers. Unfortunately or not, for Bane, the bullet has lodged itself somewhere in the deep muscle tissue of his chest.  
>"This is going to hurt" she tells him, hesitating for a moment as he stays silent. <em>Well, here we go,<em> she thinks and pushes the tweezers into the seeping wound. She isn't gentle, not how she usually is, and narrows her eyes a little when Bane doesn't so much as even flinch. Biting her lip she digs in deeper, and a moment later comes into to contact with the twisted bullet, and pulls, holding a cloth below as the blood flow thickens. Then its out, wrapped in the small soaked towel.  
>She works even faster now, discarding her tools and reaching for the suture kit for the third time that day; Sucking in another breath as she focus's her mind. Trying to detach herself from his massive presence, and threads the black thread through the glinting curved needle.<p>

She pinches the wound closed with her free hand while pushing the needle through his skin. Bane, again, doesn't so much as flinch, drawing her attention back to him as she steals as glance from the corner of her eye. He's looking ahead of him now, and her eyes trail from his to mask he wears. A strange and frightening contraption, and she wonders if its simply for show, a tool to make him more fearsome, or if he actually needs it for something, judging by the strange, spider-like tubing she thinks it might be some kind of ... Aerosol, dispersion thing. The medical training in her mind stretching out its fingers, tying to grasp some iota of knowledge that will confirm this, without having to ask him. But anesthetics had never been her area, she had never dealt with more than giving shots of morphine or topical, local anesthetics; this type of thing, was beyond her. Her brows furrow, her eyes narrowing as she stared harder at her working hands, at the thread sliding soundlessly in and out of his thick skin. At the steady, deep rise and fall of his mountainous chest. Wondering if he'd kill her for simply asking about it.

Is the answer worth the risk? He certainly gave of the air of someone who takes to killing like breathing, and, it's not like he couldn't get another nurse...

"All done" she says, her voice small and pathetic in the thick air around them, but May is relieved that at least it isn't shaking anymore.  
>Bane nods his head once, and rolls his shoulders testing its range of motion before standing to his full height. Dwarfing her again and she thinks that he can't possibly be human. Not this big, not this... This, god like.<p>

Devil like.  
>He doesn't speak, and May knows its time for her to leave when he turns his back on her. Just as she reclaims her box of supplies her steps falter, catching the deep, long jagged scar, running down the center of his spine and she gets the chilling, nauseating image of someone ripping a dull, broken knife through his skin and it takes everything in her power to repress a shudder. Then she's out, her feet caring her frantically back into the respective safety of her... Corner. Her mind stuck back in his quarters, stuck on that one terrible scar, and what someone could have done to earn such a thing.<p>

While May is pondering over this, she is unaware of the demon across the room, and the sudden interest her behavior had sparked within the cold, burning confines of his mind.


	3. Assimilation

*Thank you Luke for reviewing:) And I hope that means you like my grammar lol, and that it isn't bad! :)*

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

* * *

><p>"This planet is a broken bone that didn't set right, a hundred pieces of crystal glued together.<p>

We've been shattered and reconstructed,

told to make an effort every single day to pretend we still function the way we're supposed to.

But it's a lie, it's all a lie." - Unknown.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

The next few days passed in a haze. One long hour drawing into the next, has May shuffling about her new life as reality slowly began to sink in its claws. Moving between the two gunshot victims, (of which she now knows are mercenaries) and Bane. The enigmatic, terrifying giant leader. Each visit to his selected corner is a tenuous and frightful experience, each leaving May reeling more than the last. Sickened by her fear and by the strange and unwanted pull she feels whenever he makes his presence known. Hoping beyond hope that he at the least hasn't picked up on the weird vibes she's sure must be radiating out from her skin.

Wrung out and tired now, sleep deprived and way to hyper-aware of her surroundings to find any medium of peace. In between patient checks is the hardest, sitting alone for the most part on her perch, huddled on the stinking mattress likes she's still physically locked up there.

Barsad makes few appearances, other than to bring her meals, or escort her to the temporary and very crudely built lavatories. On the third day he brings her pack, minus gun now. But it is more relieving than May can even describe. Simply being able to change from the stained clothing she's been living in is amazing. It's in the next few moments, after zipping up a grey Patriots sweater that May decides to break the constant silence between her and her escort.

"Hey, um...Barsad, can I ask you something" she's shy in her inquires. Softly wringing her hands together as she watches the gruff man form the corner of her eyes, listening to sound of their foot falls as they approach the main area again.

"Depends" is all he says, waiting for his ward to elaborate. May takes a second to mull over how to word this before the words slip from between the cracked skin of her lips.

"Well... I was just wondering, what... what you guys are... exactly. You know, like a gang or something?" she feels stupid now, but her curiosity is winning out. After days of overhearing muffled conversation form Bane's men she has to know; and maybe, maybe it will give her a little more insight into what her fate might be. At first she had debated asking Bane himself, but after the last visit to him to change his wound dressings and check for infection, May had completely vetoed the idea. She couldn't think straight so close to him, it was like... it's like simply standing near him was enough to throw her off-balance. The way he seemed to be charming and threatening at the same time, jovial and dark. Not to mention he was completely unreadable, even in the moments May thought she might actually see some kind of real emotion glinting in those grey eyes, she can't trust it. Not when everything he does, every move of his magnificent body is a power play for control and domination.

So no, she was steering clear from him. And that left Barsad, the only other man she'd actually had words with.

"We are the league of Shadows" his answer is simple and all at once confusing. May scrunched her brows, wondering what that even means... the word cult flashes across her mind and her heart gallops. God, they couldn't just be a gang, or the fucking mob... if they were a bunch of Satan Worshiping Skin heads or something she'd...she'd. Well, she has no idea WHAT she'd do, but it'd be something. May's frown deepens, wondering why exactly, this group has to be a satanic cult for her to even think about escaping. Sure virgin sacrifice and drinking human blood was its own kind of bad, but how were any of the other options any better? She can't answer this though, and instead forces her attention back to Barsad, and decides to prob further.

"So what do you guys do?" she asks, and this time he stops a few paces ahead of her and turns around. She gets the feeling he's judging her again, trying to tell if she's worth the salt of explaining things. That, or he's wondering how much she is allowed to know.

"We are Gotham's liberation" his voice is even, unchanging as he delivers this and May is surprised. She hadn't been expecting that, she's about to say this when he continues, "This city is wrought with corruption, destroyed by the elite. We, are going to give Gotham back to its people"

Her eye brows raise as her surprise grows, and she's barely aware of something shifting within her chest. All at once hating and actually somewhat liking, what he has just told her. Hell, if anyone knows what its like to be stomped upon by the wealthy and the corrupt its her. She tries to ignore the part of her that squirms with guilt. Despite everything, siding with the very criminals that are holding her captive seems like an awfully insane and morally fucked thing to do. But she can't help it, the way his words had in a small way just blurred the lines that until now, had been drawn deeply in the sand, dividing her from the rest of them.

"You understand" Barsad comments after a few moments of silence, as he watches May process what he's told her. A strange sight he thinks, but all the better for it, once a sort of, dawn of understanding lightened in the depths of her pale hazel eyes. It would make it considerably easier for the girl he was starting to grow fond of, if she accepted, even embraced their mission. So to speak.

May nods to him, mutter a soft "ya" as she looks to the floor then his scruffy face before starting to walk again.

"Though, I will advise you, anymore questions and I can not humor you, those you must run by Bane, he will deem if you are fit for answers" his tone is no more serious than it always is, but the mere mention of that formidable man and Mays stomach twists into knots. She doesn't answer him this time, as they reach the steps to her little perch.

Again Barsad takes her silence as acceptance, nods and simply walks away. Her eyes following him as he weaves his path through the other mercenaries and sucks in a breath when he walks right over to Bane's private corner.

From her place, standing rooted on the second step, its hard to see. Until their leader lifts himself from his cot and comes clear into view, and damn her but she can't look away. Watching his body move, his muscles uncoil. Barsad is saying something she can't hear from here, but the next moment her feeling of security in remaining unnoticed is shattered as his eyes snap to hers. Her cheeks burn and she cant look away, hating how completely busted she is in her quiet observations.

Bane doesn't divert his eyes either, and for the first time since meeting him, May watches as his brow creases in something that she can only think of as confusion. As if he can't understand why, she had looked at him they way she was. Then he turns away, and the spell is broken. She shakes her head and nearly leaps the last two steps, forcing her legs to walk to her mattress. Forcing her heart to slow down. _Get a fucking grip_, she silently cringes as she sits down. Just because they may possibly have some kind of, sort of, maybe, nobel goal, does not mean he is a nice man. Fuck, just look at him, he practically oozes danger and violence, and she knows, that she, more than most, knows what that looks like. She knows what it can do, what men like that are capable of. She knows what its like to be on the receiving end of another's rage. The part she just can't understand is why none of that is making him even more horrible to her than he already is. Ya he scares the ever-living shit out of her, but its different still, from before, but she can't see why. She doesn't understand why she's even remotely, dare she think it, attracted to him. It doesn't make any fucking sense.

May looks up, staring off into an unknown corner as another thought makes itself known.

Maybe it all makes perfect sense. May, may not have a lot of man experience, but the few she does have all seem to be bred from the same bad stock. Which would mean that there's simply something wrong with her. Something that attracts the aggressive, dominating men from miles around. Like a light house flashing into the darkness, beckoning the dangerous and demented. The abusers.

Her gaze sharpens back and shifts over to Bane again, but he isn't there anymore. Or at least not where she can see him from her spot furled on the floor. Pushing away any small increments of guilt at judging him like she is. Even if she's wrong, and her draw to him is something else entirely, that doesn't erase what he is. It doesn't take away the evil in his heart.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

* * *

><p>"Hey"<p>

May groans, pulling a thin sheet over her head. Trying desperately to claw her way back into the seamless and beautifully black depths of unconsciousness, but the sudden voice is pulling at her mind, demanding her to waken. It takes the intruder prodding at her again before she fully wakens with a start, as the sudden memories of where she is slam into her mind.

"Hey get up"

And she gets up. To fast and her sight blackens for a second, narrowing the dim light of the sewer into a pin prick of light before widening again. Leaving the stone dead serious scowl of Barsad's face way to close to her for comfort.

"Um...hey" she mumbles, digging the heals of her hands roughly into her eyes as she scoots back, silently putting more space between them while running a hand over her knotted, messy bun of hair.

Barsad stands before he speaks, and its then that May notices the hustle the other mercenaries are in. Getting the distinct feeling that they're preparing for something.

"Come on, ready yourself. We implement phase two this morning and you must be ready"

She frowns looking up at him, "What do you mean, phase two? And why am I coming?" this doesn't make any sense, _What the hell is phase one? _Panic wells up within her, suddenly fearing that she had been lied to. That they weren't trying to change anything, that they're plot was more sinister, more demonic. The word sacrifice kept popping up in her mind as she struggled to feet.

"Today we go to the stalk exchange, a small group. And you can't be left here, it's not safe for you, with Bane and myself gone, you will appear all the more tempting"

This throws her for an entirely different loop, and she doesn't even know what to do with the information about the stalk exchange, let alone with the thought that Barsad, or any of them, would be concerned with her well-being. As much as she likes the thought of being cared for, she cant accept it. Not so readily, not when every single thing in life comes with a fucking catch. But she doesn't voice this, simply telling the man that she understands, that she'll be ready when they are. Because really, what can she do? Other than accept the fact that, apparently, she's along for what whatever it is a secret group of mercenaries needs to do at the Exchange.

Not ten minutes later Barsad returns, a leather jacket she's never seen him wear before covering his usual dark coat and bullet proof vest.

May doesn't comment as she soundlessly follows him towards maybe, a little more than half a dozen others, all similarity dressed._ They look like bikers, or something_, she thinks and waits. Hands fidgeting as Bane makes his own appearance. His eyes deep and cold above the glinting steel of his mask, and like the others a leather jacket adorning his large body, and May loathes the way it looks on him before making the mistake of looking up to those eyes and finding them staring, openly right back at her. She can't hold his look even if she wanted to, not as he internally crushes her without even saying a word, and the burning in her face spreads like wild-fire.

Then he's looking away, and it's not the relief she was hoping for, not as her anxiety and fear spike more. Not as his voice, loud and powerful and commanding booms out, echoing through the chamber and the tunnels.

"Lets move"


	4. Time to go mobile

"They're only as good as the world allows them to be.

I'll show you. When the chips are down, these... these civilized people, they'll eat each other.

See, I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curve. -The Joker"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

* * *

><p>The days light was blinding. As much as Gotham's light could be, filtered out, hazy with pollution and those dark clouds that never seemed to go away. But to May, after spending what had felt like forever down in the dark sewers, well, blinding it was. She squinted in accordance as her eyes burned, trying to keep pace with Barsad and her distance from the others as they filter out through a man hole cover and up onto the street.<p>

A strange feeling comes over May once they're all standing out in the open; an unsettling wave flows in her chest, and she feels like she's in a dream. Light-headed, and little dizzy as she clencheD and unclenched her clammy hands. Looking from Barsad to the others then finally to Bane, who more than anyone else here, looks so... so completely out of place.

. "Come on" Barsad says quietly, moving her forward as the men start to climb into two black SUV's parked conspicuously in the alleyway with them. She nods, silently trying to strengthen herself for whatever was about to happen, and climbs in next to him. The door closing squashes her against its tanned leather but she doesn't complain, thinking that as uncomfortable as she is, its infinitely better than the middle seat. Then the truck dips and groans as Bane climbs into the front passenger seat, and all of a sudden the large vehicle looks to small. She sighs, dragging her eyes from him to the window next to her head and watches as uncertainty and something like guilt squirm in her gut.

The ride to the exchange was silent, the air thick with tension and the loud, wheezing metal rasp of Bane's steady breath. In and out... in and out. Like a robotic beast in slumber, and May had become so focused on this sound, her own breathing unknowingly flowing in tune with his that when the truck stopped, jerking into place near the rear entrance to the building she jumped, flinching in her seat. Barsad eyes her for a moment before motioning for her to get out as Bane fits a red motorcycle helmet over his head.

"Stay close to me" he tells her once they're all out, following Bane up to a double door service entrance. May nods, mhmm-ing to him as she watches their leader rap his heavy knuckled hand twice on the blue paint. A moment passes before someone, who she thinks isn't the janitor despite his clothing, opens and lets them inside. And its here, that things start to get scary again, a few of the others break away from the group, going god knows where, as Bane and Barsad pick up their paces. His stomping strides becoming more and more threatening with each step he takes as they round a corner and push through another door. This one leads them up a set of stairs and right into the front entrance way.

"Excuse me sir" a young woman says stepping in front of them, "you need to sign in pl-" Bane tightens his grip on the helmet and swings. Fast and strong, cracking it hard to her face and she's down. May gasps, her heart beating loud as she stares down at the now out cold girl, blood trickling from her nose.

Somewhere off the distance a man screams.

The thick, frantic sea of people in the main room explodes into a panicked frenzy as the first shots are fired, everyone diving for cover, scrambling to get away from the violent predator now in their midst.

Barsad holds back aways, standing guard with his riffle. That never-changing impassive look on his face as May watches the folding scene before them. Hidden by the relative safety of his shoulders.

Her eyes widen, cemented to Bane's looming body as he grabs a business man by his tie and drags him, still seated in his chair over to a bank of computers in the center of the room. She can't hear what is said from where she stands, but the sudden echoing cracks of that mans skull, as Bane slams his head onto the counter one, two, three times, is booming.

She doesn't understand whats happening, doesn't know why they're here? She tries to stuff down the growing certainty in her mind that the League of Shadows really is nothing more than a bunch of cut throat criminals. That the shit Barsad had spewed to her earlier is nothing more than lies they tell themselves to feel better at night. And for reasons she can't place, May doesn't want it to be lies. She doesn't want this, them, to be like all the others that have rampaged their insanity through the streets. Killing... slaughtering, innocent people simply for the fucking kick.

Bane's voice, grim and ruthless breaks her from her frantic thoughts.

"Time to go mobile"

Instantly his men begin to move, a few of them grabbing hostages as Bane fits the helmet over his head and begins to stride over to where she stands, and May can't stop the step back she takes. Not even really registering as Barsad pushes her forward, a small, almost none-existent smile on his face.

She wants to rear away from him as he walks up to her but she can't move. Her pulse accelerating as a cold sweat breaks out over her skin.

Bane looks over her for a brief second before claiming her hand in his own, the brace strapped to his wrist digs painfully into her skin as he pulls her away. She fights her first instincts to try to wrench herself away. Telling herself it would be a terrible idea, and instead, lets him drag her over to a waiting motorcycle.

Everything is happening so fast the next moment that May can only afford a split second thought about where these machines had come from before Bane mounts his, and pulls her roughly onto the seat behind him.

"Shit" she says, her voice breathless and tight. Watching helplessly as all the other, unoccupied, hostages are freed out the front doors.

The loud blaring whine of sirens erupts into the building through the opened doors and she can see a small army of cop cars surround them, and Mays raging panic suddenly spikes. Freedom... if only the cops would rescue her. Pull from the beast and to safety. Or she could throw herself from him, a little tuck and roll. May licks her lips as the fantasy plays out in her mind, seeing herself leap and hit the waiting pavement. Gotham od rushing to her aid. _What makes you think they wont hurt you_ _either. _Her fist subconsciously tighten her grip on his coat, the memories flooding her again and this time she can taste his blood in her mouth. Or is it hers? Echoing screams fill the space behind her eyes; the flash of gunfire... the sound a fist makes when it hits flesh. _Don't forget what you've done, _that voice whispers as Bane twists the ignition. The bike roaring to life beneath her. _Cause I bet those cops know exactly what you are. _They're more likely to arrest her than help her, and now she can add conspiracy and aiding terrorists to that, no doubt by simple association.

May lurches forward in her seat, her small body crushed against Bane's back when he pulls down on the gas. Her arms shoot out to grip his abounding girth. She can't feel him tense from the contact.

Bane is the first of his men to speed out into the open air. Shouts and commands to cease-fire from the police fill the air and then they're gone. Tearing down the street and frightening speeds. Her grip on him tightens, as she pushes her cheek against the rigid, bulging muscles in his back, something she can feel even beneath the thick material that covers him. Watching in indignation and a rising outrage as the other men, toss their hostages to the ground without care.

For awhile they push on this way. Weaving dangerously in and out of traffic at a neck breaking speed, making May's muscles ache the other men following behind easily until something happens.

The lights black out, darkening the tunnel they've traveled under into a dizzying play of deep shadows. And then she sees it.

Him.

The Batman.

Mays heart jumps into her throat, excitement welling in her chest again, until she remembers that he's been gone. That this masked man has been AWOL for 8 years, leaving Gotham's citizens to fend for themselves, to suffer. Excitement turns to anger, and in a silent revolt presses herself in closer to the villain.

Bane doesn't stop, doesn't even show that he's seen the crusader and speeds right past him. May turns her head, watching as Batman aims some kind of weird big gun at them, terror gripping her until she sees a few of Banes men start shooting, at Batman, at the cops. Who, to her rising surprise, slow down. And she realizes that they're more interested with catching the Bat then they are with them. And that, right there, she thinks, turning herself back around, is why this place is so fucked up.

May bites her lip as a deep sadness settles in her bones. Watching the oppressive landscape sweeping by around them as Bane heads to the outskirts of town, towards one of the larger sewer openings cut into the hillside.

Back in the chamber May lives in now, Bane finally brings the bike to a stop, jerking them a little before she practically leaps away from him. Quivering, wringing her small hands together in a weak attempt at gaining some semblance of comfort. Eyeing the other soldiers from the edge of her vision as they mill about, presumably undisturbed by their leaders return.

Bane steps off next, coming to full height as he looks down at his hands. May watches, with more curiosity than she should. He's running the pads of his fingers over scars she can't quite make out from beneath the cuff of his brace. Then his eyes are on her, baring into her own as she freezes, feeling an embarrassing heat bloom in her cheeks. Knowing full well that she had just been caught staring.

"Come with me" he says, breaking the air around them with that voice that May hates to admit she's sort of growing used to. Still scares her as all hell, but it's becoming familiar. He's becoming familiar. And this little bit of a realization is disturbing , and she can't shake it as she follows him like a god damn slave to his room. The blood in her skin ignites as he begins to take off his jacket, then his vest... then that stupidly tight black shirt he seems so fond of. And May wants to damn herself when something unwanted squirms low in her gut at the sight of his naked chest. Shoulders... arms. _Stop! Stop it right the fuck now_! She snaps, forcing her eyes to the still bandaged wound on the curving muscle beneath his collar-bone.

Bane eyes her with something akin to suspicion as he sits down, his substantial weight dipping the old cot with a whining groan. Watching the small mouse as she shuffles over to her box of medical supplies she assumes he had brought in earlier and immediately sets to work. Silent as she pulls on the blue gloves. Silent as she keeps her eyes anywhere but his face, even when she's inches from his head, his rasping breaths echoing within her head.

She's trying to focus, trying to push back the flashing images of Bane smashing that man at the Exchange as she peels back the old bandage, revealing the healing pink wound beneath.

"Time to take the stitches out" she says quietly into the room around them, breathing out through her nose to steady herself.

"Do as you will, Nurse May"

She frowns at the exhausted tone of his voice. _No, that's not it_. No, he sounds like he's in pain. She bites at the peeling skin on her bottom lip, slipping the a small pair of scissors into each stitch before cutting it loose, mulling over whether she's brave enough to ask about it or not.

When his breathing deepens, becoming a little more labored than it normally is, May makes up her mind. Sighing as she puts down her tools and finally turns to him. After all, she is a damn nurse.


	5. Consiquences

"You have no idea how long that dark lasts when you cant close your eyes to it"- unknown.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

* * *

><p>"Hey... Blake, take a look at this" Officer Pembroke calls over his shoulder to the younger man behind him. An eager sort of excitement in his voice is what really catches John's attention though. Standing he walks over to the monitor Pembroke is clearly referring to to. And at first, he doesn't see it.<p>

"What" he says, dead panned. Tried and sore from the never-ending hours and constant running around he's been doing lately. But ever vigilant as he is, John's gaze narrow's in on the confiscated security footage from the mess at the stock exchange the night before, and frowns.

"See that girl there... look kinda familiar don't she" Pembroke tells him as he sits straighter in his chair as John leans over his shoulder for a closer look at her. She's small, compared to the people around her, he thinks maybe five foot five or so. Pretty to, with all that dark hair piled unceremoniously on-top of her head. Hands fisted in the cuffs of her sweater. He thinks she's probably a real sweat heart.

"Play it" John says, and waits as Pembroke un-pauses the feed, and at once the chaos looks immediately to the one in charge, to that awful thing on his face as he terrorizes those people, before swinging his eyes to that small girl again. Watching as she stares at the giant, a mix of fear and something that looks like...awe on her face. And frowns.

"I think she's with them" Pembroke voices his thoughts practically as he thinks them. Nodding along; this girl isn't one of the hostages, that's for sure. The way she's hanging close to one of the robbers is a little to close for normal; and he keeps watching as the leader takes her to his bike and he knows now beyond a doubt that she's involved somehow, and John smiles.

"We need her" He says standing up straight. If only he could figure out where he'd seen her before, as hard as it can be to make out certain features from a video of such shitty quality, but he knows her face... then it hits him, a memory from a week or so back slamming into the front of his mind and he's moving, practically running out the door and over to his desk.

"Come on... please be my girl" he calls out as he starts frantically shuffling through the mass of paper work on his desk, all the while silently cursing himself for his disorganization; until he finds what he's looking for anyway. Relief and elation make him grin as he stares down at the wanted poster for one Maybell Reynolds. Those big eyes staring right back up at him.

"Gotcha"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

* * *

><p>Bane watches May as she puts away her supplies from cleaning up his gunshot wound. Watches as her hands tremble ever so slightly as the pads of her fingers pushed lightly into his burning skin. His nerve endings tingling where she touched. Her skin is so soft, he'd never felt anything so soft before.<p>

She is an enigma to him. Confusing and somewhat captivating, as much as he wishes she wasn't. Nothing more than a distraction in a time when he cannot afford to have any. Usually, he wouldn't care. People, men or woman or children. Do not affect him, they do not hold any sway over the direction of his thoughts. No matter the circumstances. His focus in his duties is sharp and keen, cold and unforgiving. So why? _Why?_ Does the little mouse constantly draw him?

Bane has caught her, on more than one occasion, looking at him when she so foolishly thinks he is unaware. He has seen strange things flicker within the depths of those hazel orbs so pale they are almost yellow. Some of what he sees, he recognizes. A certain glint, a glimmer of darkness, of pain. Flashing bright before its gone again. It shouldn't pull his interest, but it does.

Barsad had come to him that morning, reporting in. Telling him again of the girl in his charge, of the way she seems to be settling in, as much as a prisoner can anyway. Then he tells him of the way the men steal looks at her when he's not around. The way they whisper of things they will do to her pale body, and it enrages him. He grinds his teeth together to keep it inside, bemused by this reaction, yet unable to banish it. So he quietly commands his Lieutenant to keep the little mouse close. To guard her from the others, telling him that she will come with them. If Barsad has any opinion on this he keeps it wisely to himself.

From that moment on, Bane busied himself with preparation of the coming night, of the rising destruction, pushing her from his mind until the time to leave is at hand.

Then just a few minutes ago, she had asked about the mask. And he had snapped at her without even thinking, his irritation and mounting physical pain had curb-stomped his patients. May had cowered away reflexively, flinching like he had struck her. He didn't like that this bothered him.

Bane frowns behind the mask, though no one would know. His eyes still trained to Mays now retreating figure as she makes her way over to her place in their cave, and he thinks on the Stalk Exchange. When he had one eye on his task and one eye on her. Fully expecting May to take the opportunity to try to flee. To make a break for her freedom. Unworried as he was about her actually being successful in such an endeavor, but he waited for her to do it non the less.

And yet she hadn't. The girl did not even make so much as a back wards glance, or check for escape routes in her surroundings. Not even with the brunt of Gotham's pathetic police force at their feet.

Not even when the Batman appeared.

And it didn't fit, none of it fit with her behavior. It didn't sit right with her trembling limbs and fearful, sad eyes. With her constantly tense little body, perpetually on alert. And now, he wants answers, at the very least, to simply put his mind to rest.

Bane pushes his hands into his knees, grinding his teeth together as he brings his hulking form up from the cot. Pain, intense and burning, grips him tightly for a moment. Throbbing along his spin, spreading and sinking its claws into his flesh. He needs to remedy this, but he'll wait, and pushes the ache away and instead, makes his way over to where May sits.

It only takes a moment for her to become aware of his growing presence, her eyes shooting up to his before flitting down and away. Blood blooms in the pale flesh of her cheeks as she begins to shift uncomfortably in her seat, scooting back and away from him as he reaches her side. The metal barred railing creating a false barrier between them.

"Why did you not try to escape?" he asks immediately, his voice low despite how loud he sounds. Mays head snaps and swivels to face him again as her brow furrows with her own confusion after thinking he was coming to reprimand her for her forward curiosity.

Bane looks down upon her, knowing that he is intimidating her, scaring her with his size. He can see it in the way she's tucking her legs up in front of her, trying to shrink. She swallows, once... twice. Her lips open as if to speak but she looks away. Her words lumping in her throat as she struggles, and Bane waits.

He is a patient man.

"I uh... I thought... about it" she says this like she knows the trouble these words will cause, "but I didn't..." she stops again, mid sentence to turn her face back to his, the crease in her brow deepens, like she's weighing how honest she can be, "I don't belong out there... not anymore... I can't go back"

He's a little surprised by this, if he was being honest himself. It was quite a statement to make considering it could only mean that little May felt more like his men then her own people. His right hand twitches in his brace as he thinks back to the state she had been brought to him in. Her brown hair a mess, eyes frightened and bruised. The swelling black and green of her injury spreading to the tender skin of her cheek, the darkening imprint on her neck... the gun in her pack.

"What brought you here, little nurse" the words are out of his mouth before he means to say them, and this alone disturbs him more than anything else has. His control, his discipline, shakes for no man.

"I... I killed someone" her words are whispers against her lips, as her fingers, the nails chipped and dirty, picked at a frayed thread on the black leggings she always wears and Bane is less thrown off by this then her previous admission. Knowing full well, that anyone, given the right set of circumstances, and despite their own dispositions, can commit the most atrocious of crimes. Much to their own astonishment, and May seems to be struggling with the marks against her soul.

For a second he wants to pry further, wants to understand what drove such a seemingly delicate thing to take someones life, but he restrains himself. Nods at her and forces himself to walk away, to leave her presence and the way she clouds his mind. He needs to attend to his own ailments at any rate, the pain that is burning in his muscles reminds him of this. And as he walks away, he doesn't see the guarded look of empathy that shines in her eyes.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

* * *

><p>"Maybell Reynolds, goes by May Evans now. 26 years old. A nurse at Gotham General, wanted in connection with the homicide of one Chris Reynolds, shot at point blank in her West 4th apartment in the night if September 23rd, no living relatives within city limits," John Blake read aloud to Pembroke from the information he had compiled. Growing more and more excited with each piece of information he had unearthed. Positive now that the girl was responsible for her ex's death.<p>

Now all he had to do was find her, which, judging by her apparent relationship with the mercenaries, might be a little hard. Either way, Blake was undeterred, she would need to come up for air at some point. And thanks to the Dent Act, he could arrest her without having to worry about her getting out on bail and running. Then she would talk, maybe he could even convince her that she'd get off, if she turned the mercenaries in. He could tell her she was a victim in all this, that she'd be free from the bad guys. Safe. He could do that, he had to before things got worse. And they always got worse, so for now, he would push down the guilt that tried to twist at him.

"That was a domestic right?" Pembroke asks, looking down at the only photograph they had of her. A few years old maybe, but she looks about the same as in the security tape.

Blake nods, sifting through his file before pulling out another sheet of paper, "ya, three calls made from the shared home... the last one was 19 months ago, a month before she was issued a restraining order," he hums a little as he scans over the words.

"A battered woman defense wont get her off though" he says, taping his finger near the bottom of the page, "says here the court order psych evaluation diagnosed her with low grade PTSD, and hell, with the Dent Act in place, all we need to say is she snapped".

Pembroke smiled, nodding along with the plan; a weight lifting from his chest now that they had an actual direction to go in.

"OK, so where do we start?"

Blake's been wondering the same thing. With no immediate family in Gotham, or any real known friends, connecting the dots was going to be a little hard... but there was always her coworkers.

"We'll start at the hospital"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ..

* * *

><p>It's hard to breath when he's here, silent or growling in that way that he does. His presence, his soul intensifies everything. She can't think straight. Mays mind is a constant mix of fear and apprehension. Of exhaustion and doubt. She wants to cry but she can't. The tears don't come, locked away within her throat, even as the pressure builds, as her frustration and anger mount. They still do not come. Sleep is equally evasive, leaving her staring into the darkness long into the early hours of the night. Her mind bombarding itself over and over again. Beating against her skull. And when sleep does come, nightmares make themselves known.<p>

She doesn't understand why it's getting worse now. Even after her kidnapping, she had actually been growing used to things down here. Growing used to the men around her. Hell, she was even building a tentative friendship with Barsad. But it hadn't felt real, not until they brought her to the surface. Not until she saw other citizens again. Cowering beneath the weight of Bane's terrifying soul. Then she saw the police, she saw life and a way out and a way back to her the one she had faught so hard to keep. But reality hits her then. And she knows she'll never go home again. That home, wasn't home anymore. And this had nothing to do with Bane and everything to do with the man she'd murdered. Self-defense or not. The moment she pulled the trigger was the moment she lost everything. May just hadn't known the full spectrum of her consequences when she had run away, like there had been this part of her mind still convinced that things would turn out ok in the end. That she could go back. So she had stayed where she was, wrapped around the body of a homicidal maniac and surrendered to her fate.

Then Bane had to go and blur those lines even more. Stomping over to her and asking questions she didn't want to answer. But she had, all the while trying to figure out why he even bothered wasting the energy. Especially after she had probed with her own curiosity. Asking about his mask, if he was in pain. Why is he in pain? And Bane, in pure Bane fashion, had snapped. Jumping down her throat and scaring the shit out of her. Leaving her in a sweating, shaking mess. Trying to walk away on legs that threatened to give out.

So it was reasonable to assume he was out to put her in her place again. To make sure she knew that curiosity killed the cat. But the words that had come out of his mouth had not been expected. And May couldn't figure out why he cared at all. She was still here to play Doctor, wasn't that all that mattered. She was nothing more than a pawn in whatever game he was playing. And Kings don't care about their servants.

God, and did he ever look like a Demon King as he stood above her. A strange look lighting the slate grey of his eyes. Her heart a thundering drum with his proximity, her mind humming. Trying to wade through the fog of fear and something else she refused to acknowledge to pull sentences together. Stumbling over her words like a nuance. But what could she tell him really. Other than the truth.

May didn't belong out there anymore, with those people. Not after what she'd done. She could see it in her mind, the look people would get on their faces when they find out. Her friends at work... her neighbours. The would try to appear sympathetic, to smile warmly at her. But she would know, she would see the blatant pity, the thinly veiled disappointment... disgust. They would turn their heads from her, shaking them as they walked away. Like everyone else had done before. Before when she had been a different kind of prisoner, locked behind the doors of a cage she had called home. Terrorized by a rage disguised as love.

Everyone else had left her then to, when she had needed them most. Her friends, even what little family she had left had stopped returning her calls. And May had learned what it was like to be alone, to be chained. Hidden away. She knew what that was like, and here. In this damp, dark place beneath Gotham. Well, it didn't feel like that. As much as she thinks it should, considering she didn't stick around voluntarily. But she hadn't put up much of a fight either. Falling into submission considerably easier than any had anticipated, least of all her self. _But isn't that what you do best? You have no backbone._

In the end, all she was able to say to him was the truth. An admittance to her own corruption, her own smeared soul. That she had stolen the life from someone, even if they had deserved it. And then, the most peculiar thing happened. As Mays eyes strayed up his formidable being, to his eyes and watched them change. It was brief, and silent and so loud. As the cold steel of violence that always seemed to radiant from within those depths softened and shifted. It was strange, unsettling, and May recognized what was looking back at her. She knew it because it was so... so human. She knew it because she was consumed by it.

Pain.

It was hurt and anger. It was corrupted compassion. And Mays chest tightened, twisting with her own waring insides as she looked upon him, this human side of him. As brief and heavily shadowed as it was, didn't correlate with the evil he is. With the killer, the terrorist, the destroyer. Men like him are monsters. No conscious. and yet. And yet here he is, looking at her like he knew what she was feeling, without her even having to say it. And May didn't know what to do with this revelation, as a part of her mind tried to tell her not to trust it. That trust is bad and foolish and whatever it is he's doing right now is for his own benefit. Those aren't honest eyes. She repeated this, over and over again, but the conviction never came.

Then he was gone, and something shifted within her breast. Watching as he walked away, trying desperately to ignore the quiet whispering in her mind that said, maybe, some monsters are human.


	6. Shift

Hey, ok, so I made some changes to the earlier chapters, mostly just simple editing, but others I altered the paragraphs and such. Changed a few things, fixed stuff. And I have to say, I am much happier with it now. Just thought Id put that out there.

OH and I did reverse the order of certain events from the movie, like the Stalk Exchange scene, in my story comes before the Commissioner getting shot. It just happened like that, turns out it fits. I really wanna get the ball rolling and move away a bit from the movie script.

* * *

><p>"Out of the night that covers me, black as pit from pole to pole,<p>

I thank whatever god may be, for my unconquerable soul" - Unknown

* * *

><p>"Hey, can I ask you something?" May inquires hesitantly when Barsad brings her breakfast the next morning. She's sitting crossed legged on the mattress her fingers pulling and rubbing at each other again in a way he is starting to recognized as one of distress.<p>

"Depends on the question" he replies as usual, breathing out a sigh as he bends to hand her the bowl of the now usual morning oatmeal they all seem so fond of, and waits patiently for her to continue.

"Well, " she starts, stirring the brown sugar into the steaming oats and brushing a lock of dark hair from her forehead, " can you tell me what happened, um, that day they were shot", May looks at him for a beat before starting on her food, knowing she's being nosy. But hell, she did save their lives. Even the one man she didn't think would make it, managed to hold on. She even patched up their fearless leader, and the mystery surrounding the incident has ebbed away at the back of her mind.

"Okay" Barsad nods, sitting himself down a few paces away, and turns to her and gives her a brief vexed smile. May's eyebrows rise, thinking she was going to have to nettle him more than that.

"The police had ventured a little to close for comfort"

_Ah_, she thinks, _that should have been obvious._

"They fired upon us, hit Gareth and Marcus, drawing Bane's attention. He killed them all, but one bastard got a last shot in... as you know" he's eyeing her, watching a few different emotions filter through her mind as she frowns, her eyebrows creasing the skin between them.

"Does this bother you?" he asks when she remains silent, " to know we have killed men".

Her frown turns into an all out grimace, and she sets down her food. Looking back to him as that familiar deep sadness begins to ache anew.

"I suppose that, yes... it does bother me"she tells him, trying resolutely to keep her own terrible deeds from the fore-front of her thoughts, but even that does not banish the flashing images of dark glistening blood, and shattered bone.

"That is interesting... coming from a killer" he actually smiles at her this time. The gesture looks strange on his face as his bearded cheeks crease, "Yes Bane told me, but I have looked into matters myself... you are a wanted woman Miss Evans".

May's lips tighten into a thin line as a shadow passes over her eyes. She had known that she wasnt going to be able to simply wash her hands of what she'd done. That there would be ramifications, but actually hearing it. Well, it brought this to a whole new level, adding to her fears from the other day. And now, so it would seem, she really couldn't leave this place, if she wanted to stay free.

May almost laughs at how fucked up this has become.

"I cant believe this is happening... If I run away, I'll go to BlackGate, if I stay I'm surrounded by murderers and criminals" she sighs, her shoulders tense as May wraps her arms around her legs, trying desperately to find comfort where there is none. Loosing herself in thought as Bane's cold eyes stare back at her from the inside of her head.

"You wouldn't get far if you ran, but I will say, that you will be treated far better here than at that prison" Barsad adds after her silence begins to stretch.

May nods simply, not looking at him, but somewhere off into the distance.

"You shouldn't judge a man simply because of the things he does... you do not know all of what is at play here, the things it has cost to get this far" he knows he's said too much, but he wants her to understand. Like she almost had before. He wants her to want this to; to be a part of their group, "many of us... some more than others, have suffered beyond what any man could endure, and the world out there" Barsad points the ceiling and Mays follows his finger with her eyes, "they torture and kill innocent people, kill us and get away with it because they have power and wealth... So we came, we came to make it right..."

She really does want to cry now, her food all but forgotten as the last of Barsad's words echo in her mind. Resonating within the confines of her heart. Just the passion in which he has said this alone speaks to the truth of it all. She looks to Bane then, his back facing her from across the wide chamber. Her eyes following the jagged scar that cuts through the skin of his body. Her chest tightens, and she's about to inquire about this to, hoping that with his right hand man in such a giving mood she'd get the answers she wants. But May never gets the chance to even ask.

Not as a commotion breaks out in the group of mercenaries who are all suddenly standing at attention.

Barsad is up at once, any openness gone from his face disappears as he goes to meet the problem. And as May looks on with mounting horror, sees that the issue happens to be two of the soldiers, dragging Commissioner Gordon right towards Bane.

It felt like she was watching a movie, with each slow, hesitant step towards the scene. Her gaze moving from the Commissioner, then to Bane as he stands tall, turning to face his men in slow, practiced movements. And May thinks that now, more than even at the Stalk Exchange, he looks powerful. Undefeatable, and savage. His ferocity and pride made all the more potent, obvious by the slow, almost casual nature in which he carries himself as he turns to face them.

"It's the police commissioner. " one man says, he sounds to May like he's just brought in a present.

Bane looks from his man down the Commissioner for a moment, and unreadable expression in his eyes before responding, his voice booming almost jovially around them through the rasping echo of his mask.

"And you brought him down here?"

His men cast uneasy glances between them, and May looks at Barsad, who has taken his place now at his leaders side, a sign of silent devotion if she'd ever seen one. And her panic rises.

"We didn't know what to do" the first man stutters out, becoming desperate and fearful as the realization of the mistake he's made widens his eyes. Bane approaches and May takes a few more steps closer, standing off just behind them. A morbid curiosity pulling at her like an unseen and terrible thread.

"You panicked, and your weakness has cost the lives of three others" Bane steps even closer when the man tries to reason with him. It doesn't work, and before he can even finish his sentence, Bane's hand is gripping his mans throat, he squeezes. Something gurgles, then cracks and May flinched as the man falls to the ground next to the Commissioner, who is laying as still, and May wonders if he's already dead.

"Search him, then I will kill you"

_What?!_

She can't believe what she's hearing, let alone witnessing. This is just... its insane, its making her feel sick and enraged but she can't turn away.

The second man obey's without question or protest and immediately begins to search the Commissioner, after a moment passing Bane some papers and a gun.

May wants to stop him, to end this before more people lose their lives, but her voice is lodged in her throat and she can't build up the courage to face down the giant.

In this moment, he terrifies her.

Bane walks away from them, tucking the weapon in the back of the thick, studded brace he wears and begins to read whatever was found. But as soon as his back is turned, the Commissioner moves, suprising the man searching him and rolls quickly over the edge of the landing and into the roaring sewer waters.

The second man, and a few others who shove their way past May rush to the railing, firing their guns into the waters, trying desperately to kill the man before he gets away and costs them all their lives.

"He's dead" the man breathes heavy, and May crosses her arms over her chest, hands griping the fabric of her sweater with white knuckles. Watching Barsad as he passes something to Bane, and she knows that the poor mercenaries time has just run out.

"Then show me his body"

Its obvious the man can't, arguing the impossible nature of this request. Going on about the outflows, before Bane walks right up to him, pushing him against the railing with his presence. May's lips part, she can't stand this anymore. She's about to say something, anything to make it stop. But she doesn't get the chance.

The resounding gunshot explodes around them, echoing through her head. Frozen and unmovable even when Barsad comes closer to her side. His emotionless veil a stead-fast mask upon his face. May doesn't understand why he is here instead closer to Bane, but she draws a strange sort of comfort from him anyway as she tries to not shake.

Bane isn't sure which bothers him more at the moment, that May is looking at him with such disdain and disappointment, or the fact that Barsad seems to be taking his role with her a little more seriously than necessary. The Commissioner all but forgotten, he frowns. He stops a little ways before them, wondering at the heaviness that's taken root in his gut. Disliking deeply, that he feels like he has made some kind mistake.

May can't take the quiet tension anymore, her mounting frustration and anxiety is becoming suffocating. She shifts her weight a little as she tries to appear braver than she is.

"Why did you have to kill them?" she finally manages to spit out and now its Barsad's turn to shift with unease as Bane's eyes narrow, "you...you cant just kill anyone you want... you... you're a..

"_What_ am I" his practically growls. His voice cruel and rasping. The jump to anger is swift, fists bawled, clenching and unclenching. His eyes shine in the shadowed light and May takes a step backwards, her own anger turning to a fear so familiar it feels warm.

And he's looking at her now, like she's next in line for execution.

May lifts her chin, forcing it up even as her body starts to feel heavy, her pulse racing so hard she's starting to sweat. To many times, thousands of times, has she bowed down before another's rage. So many times, days after unending days has she had to bear the weight of violence and terror and she doesn't want to feel that here. And right now, this minute, staring him down, she knows... she hopes he wont kill her.

"I am not afraid of you" though she so clearly is, standing there desperately trying to keep her knees from buckling.

"There is nothing you could do... short of k-killing me... that hasn't been done before"

All eyes are on them, staring with rapt attention. Never before has anyone, let alone a little woman, talked to their leader in such a defiant manner. And it shows. 'Bane's shoulders rigid, and bowed forward like he's walking into a fight.

This was a stand-off of sorts. The tension so thick in the air it was suffocating. The drums so loud and deafening in her ears it hurt. Panic and fear began to steal her strength. Then May cracked and looked away. Unable to hold the weight of his eyes any longer.

The spell on him broke a long moment later, and Bane straightened his body. Chest heaving with deep breaths as he tempted to calm himself down. Then he looks at the side of her face that faces him, and the faint traces of bruising that wasn't so mysterious anymore; and he stops moving completely.

A new fire lit within him, her words connecting the bridge in his mind. And he understands now, what he could not before. Though the light of his revelation only reaches so far. The corners within himself where things are starting to shift are still dark, still unknown and uncomfortable.

For now he pushes the sickening feeling away, and gives into to the small part of him that doesn't want her to fear him. Which, in and of its self is no small feat. He thinks she should fear him, everyone, including his men do. Why should the little mouse be any different. Unfortunate circumstances aside. Her own torment should not hold more weight than others.

So why does it then?

"Though I will not harm you... it is never wise to tempt the devil"

* * *

><p>Gotham General had been a bust, Ms. Evans coworkers knew less about her then he did. Which was a little suprising given how long she'd been stationed there. And after nearly two hours of hunting down different nurses and doctors he's given up.<p>

Then something happened. Hearing the tail of end of a call over the radio in his squad car as he climbs in the front seat, something that turned his blood to ice.

The Commissioner had been shot.

John jumped from the vehicle and raced right back into the building he came from, calling to Pembroke over his shoulder radio. Trying to ignore the dread and anger spreading through him.

Where the hell was Batman now.


	7. The move

For darkness restores what light cannot - Joseph Brodsky

For the next three days Bane remained absent. May neither saw nor heard from him. Which for her, was all the better. She was still angry. His behavior regarding the men that followed him was... well, unacceptable. But what was she going to do? Stop him? Yeah, if I wants to end up meeting my maker I will. And since standing up to him again is clearly out of the question, what are her options?

None... I have no options. I can't help anyone...

At the very least she can heal their wounds, maybe if she held more clout with the higher-ups... particularly you know who, she might be able to reason with him, well... maybe not. He doesn't seem like the type who takes the opinions of others into consideration. And given that she's under his command for the foreseeable future, she might as well bag that idea now. But she doesn't think she can just stand around and watch him kill whoever he pleases either. That's just... it's just not okay. And that is understating things.

What the fuck is wrong with me...

Thinking about things like she's apart of this group of theirs and not a prisoner is crazy. Prisoners don't have sway in anything at all. Ever. And that sinking truth brings her back to the beginning again. If only she could get this all out of her head... forget for a while like she used to before all this even happened. But she doesn't have her Ipod, and she doesn't have any Mango flavored run and coke either... so forgetting might be a little hard, and she's so bored right now she could claw her eyes out.

May wont complain like she wants to though and instead ops for doing exactly what she's been doing all day. The same damn thing she does every fucking day if none of the men have gone and hurt themselves. She sits. She sits, and sits, and sits some more. With her captive status, wandering the lair she lives in now is out of the question. Bane had never said as much, but May figured it was a given. She'd already pushed him once, she wasnt going to make it worse for nothing.

Picking her eyes up from picking at the dirt under her nails May looks to the only two men left in the chamber with her. She doesn't know them, doesn't know their names. Only that Barsad had ordered them to keep and eye on her before waving and taking nearly all the guys with him. Watching them leave, a long formidable platoon of mercenaries, May's curiosity exploded.

She wants to know what they're doing, she wants to know where the fuck Bane is. She never regretted speaking up to him. The moment had been a mile stone for her, the experience nearly crippling, but she had done it. And nothing had been resolved, those men were still dead, she is still locked up and alone, and Bane is still Bane. Probably off terrorizing Gotham, destroying anyone who gets in his way. Yeah, she gets that something messed up must have happened to him, no one turns out like that simply because they're born that way. She'd like to think anyway. But whatever it is Barsad had been eluding to is no excuse. To her way of thinking, it shouldn't' fucking matter where you came from, it doesn't matter how bad you had it, nothing should ever give a man the right to senselessly hurt someone else. And to top the whole shebang off, she fucking didn't hate him for it. She knows she should... If anyone is qualified to feel nothing but disdain for a man who does nothing but impose his power and violence on others it should be her. But it's not, and she can't figure it out. Even that last day she'd seen him, when he was walking away after their little disagreement. His big shoulders swinging slowly with the gate of his stride she didn't hate him. Even after he had threatened her, and taken the lives of 2 of his own...Somethings seriously wrong with me...

Shaking her head, May decides it's about time she got up and stretched her aching legs. Maybe those two over there could at least let her walk around for a little while.

She's about to ask when something deafening rips through air, and for the a moment May thinks its thunder. The walls quake, everything rumbles, deep and loud and ear-splitting. She shrieks and ducks as rubble and loose chunks of concrete fall to the floor.

"Fuck... What the fuck was that!" She's looking at those two men again, who have moved from the wall to the center of the room. Talking amongst themselves and ignoring her completely.

"Hey!" she snaps, fear coursing through her when she thinks its more likely that was an explosion, some kind of bomb than underground sewer thunder.

And why the hell are they so bloody calm!

"Hey whats going on!" May is near them now, hands fisted by her sides as she tries to control her labored breathing. Eyes wide, darting all around them, like she's expecting the ceiling to cave in.

"None of your concern nurse" the man closest to her says with a curt East European accent, and thick dark beard obscuring most of his face from her. May just scowls back, wishing Barsad were here. Even if he didnt say anything either, at least he didn't look at her like she was nothing.

"Well, where is Bane? Where's Barsad?" that's it, she has officially gone crazy. May's even surprised herself with the forward questions, slipping out from between her teeth without double checking and reorganizing them a thousand times. It was unsettling.

"Quiet"

She was about to argue, about to ask him again but the words died on her tounge when the two men in question suddenly appeared around the corner of one of the connecting tunnels.

Bane a pace ahead of his Luetanent, and if May didn't know any better, a smug look in those eyes off his.

Barsad however, looked down right vile. If she was curious before, she was down right drowning now. Where had they been? Was the bomb, explosion thing a part of whatever their plans are? What's happening now?

Nothing made sense, and she wanted to know. Being in the dark was bad enough, being in the dark surrounded by danger was ten times worse.

But she didn't speak, she didn't do a thing expect to take a step back and out-of-the-way as they approached. Bane reached them first, looking to her baby-sitters first, then to her a few paces away.

"Collect your things Little nurse, for today we move" he sounded... cheerful. As strange as putting those two things together seemed.

Wait... what?

Now she had more questions piled on top of each other and virtually no answers. But she didn't even attempt at pressing the issue. Opting instead for spinning on her heel and doing exactly as she had been order. It's what I'm good at right? Being the bitch...

"Hey" Barsad says quietly, walking up beside her as she hurries up the few steps to the platform she wouldn't miss at all. May smiles weakly at him as she starts rolling together the few pathetic items of clothing she has and stuffed them back into the old blue pack. Two minutes and thirty-four seconds later she was done, and that in and of itself made her incredibly sad.

"Should I even ask?" she says eventually, prodding while knowing that he either couldn't, or wouldn't answer her. He did come up here with her though... maybe he is going to tell her anyway.

Barsad looks at her for a moment, his gaze leveling as he stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"We will be initiating phase three soon... and we need to clear out before then"

It's a simple enough answer, and vague like everything else he teases her with, but he did answer. And that alone takes the edge of her anxiety.

"And before you ask, we're moving to Dagget Tower" Barsad says this little tid bit with a smug look on his face, one that brightens by the shock that falls across May's own countenance. Why the bloody hell would they go there?

"What?... What do you mean Dagget Tower, why on earth would you guys have anything to do with that man" it was the last thing she had expected.

"Don't worry, Dagget is no longer a problem for this city" Barsad knows that she'll get the picture with that, though he wants to say more he is not eager to step on Bane's toes. Which, he thinks he has been, though the boss has not said as much. It's just, a feeling he has gotten. A vibe of sorts when he's around the larger man. Something dangerous and more so than usual; something that intensifies when their illustrious little nurse is either in the room with them or brought up in discussion. Bane becomes harder for him to read, his words shorter and clipped. And that is saying a lot when one is speaking of that man.

Barsad has his suspicions, but he'd rather take those to the grave than voice any aloud. It wouldn't do anyone any good, nor himself.

"Hey, Barsad... you in there?" May's soft voice penetrates the fog his mind had fallen into, and he smiles simply at her, taking in her donned sweater and bag.

"All set then?"

Daggat towers was exactly what May had invisiond on the ride over. After being practically smuggled out of the sewers with nearly an army of men. Though most of the soldiers, who were dressed in civilian clothing, dispersed into the city. She figured that was a wise course of action, given that a massive group of seriously dower men and one ragged woman would cause undue attention. That left her riding the same truck that had used to do whatever they had done at the stock exchange, in the back again as Barsad drove her and Bane though the streets. Followed closely by three other vehicles.

Now that she was actually here though. She didn't have any words. Moving from Gotham's stinking underbelly to one of the most extravagant buildings in the city was a little more than dizzying.

"Show her to her quarters please" Bane announces once they reach the elevator banks, leaving his Lieutenant with the nurse as he heads to take his own lift up. Which May in the end is grateful for, the thought of doing something so... so normal with him is unsettling, though it seems they have moved past her earlier bout of bravery. Not to mention that the floor Barsad just punched into the panel is 11, well, that would have been a uncomfortably awkward ride. But she still cant help but ask.

"So, where is he going?... off to commit more evil deeds?"

Barsad looks at her from the corner of his eye, not amused by her quip though he doesn't chastise her for it. Even if... and that's a big fucking if.. he had entertained the thought of bringing her in a little closer, he could never do it. Bane would never allow it. She wasnt a league member. Not even close, and then there was the other issue he'd been having to bite his tongue over. And for far longer than any of the others. One that would be making an unwelcome appearance that evening.

"Hey, I'm sorry...I...I didnt mean to joke" May whispers as the elevator door opens with a loud chime and the pair step off onto the most intricate and expensive carpet either has had ever seen.

"No, I'm sorry May, was just off somewhere else... and there really isn't much I can tel you now without Bane's consent"

She smiles at him, her eyes sad like they always are and follows him the rest of the way in silence.

The room that is to be her new prison is just... there is no words. The thing is huge, certainly bigger than anything May had ever been in before. It was like a hotel room really, minus a kitchen. And it was uncomfortably glamorous. From the carpet to the ceiling, where a rather large and ridiculously shiny chandelier hung.

The dressers (of which there are two) were abnormally large and ornately carved. They looked like antiques, but May figured forgeries more likely. Then there was the bed. The biggest god damned bed ever, and she'll be damned if it doesn't look like heaven on earth compared to that stinking old thing she'd been living on for the least few weeks.

"I know it's a bit much to take in, but at least you don't have to pay rent"

May' lips twitched before spreading into her own smile as she tossed her pack to the bed. completely ignoring the painfully clear contrast to her life and the one of the man who owned this place.

"Did you just... did you just make a joke?" May teased, enjoying the easy feeling that was such a rarity in her life.

Barsad ignored her comment though, instead looking around the room one last time, making sure she had what she needed.

"Dinner will be brought to you this evening, and then I'll show you the common areas. I believe security regarding you will be a little more relaxed here, but please don't try to escape, Bane will find you..." he didn't want to completely trample the never-before-seen good feelings, but he had to say it. And judging the by the way her smile disappeared he had done just that. "There is also a clinic that will be set up for you, but we can worry about that later...so, make yourself at home"

Feeling tense and awkward now, Barsad doesn't wait for her to reply before leaving and shutting the door behind him. Its been getting harder, with each passing day to keep looking at her like she's just their captive. May certainly doesn't act like it anymore. Especially when she had stood up to Bane those long days before. A moment wich he will never forget, one that had his wheels spinning. Considering there was only one, one person, who could get away with speaking freely to Bane.

And it certainly wasn't him.

As Barsad made his way to the next floor up his mind turned with this information, and what it could mean for the League, for Bane and himself, if he were able to somehow... turn this strange possibility in his favor. It was a long shot, so long that he doubted it would ever work. But he would try...

Ok, I know things are kinda moving at a slow pace, but I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it none the are gonna start picking up pretty fast to, so stay tuned. :) 


	8. Bitter taste

I could do a Bane/Talia story, but it wouldn't be for a while. I've got a bunch of stories I'm working on at the moment, some still unpublished but once I clear my plate a little I'll consider it.  
>... ... ... ... ... ... ...<p>

I knew what you were from the beginning. I could smell the blood.  
>You were born to spill blood - unknown.<p>

... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"I want the whole damn force down there" Commissioner Gordon announced, frustrated with his the Captain's obvious lack of belief. It didn't matter though, if anyone thought he was crazy, he knows what he saw down there. That man, the one with the mask from the attack on the Stock Exchange, had made quit the nice little home for himself. And he chose the wrong city to fuck with.

Jim smiled, exhaustion pulling at his eyes. His body throbbing in pain from his gunshot wounds. None of that mattered though, because he has faith. He has faith in the kindness of men, despite the city he protects, despite the atrocities its witnessed. One look at the young, eager cop standing at the foot of his hospital bed, that old familiar glint of dogged determination in his eyes. Well, he just knew, he knew they'd pull out of this one in the end to. Not to mention that the Batman was back. God, when he had seen him, finally after all these long years. The guilt that had eaten him alive had exploded in his chest. He had been weak, and desperate. A mistake he'll pay for till the end of his days.  
>"I want you leading this case son" he says after a beat, and he can't stop the smile that tugs at his lips when a look of shock passes over the younger mans face.<br>"What... what do you mean"  
>Jim winces when he shifts, trying to sit up a little better.<br>"I mean you work for me now, you're a detective son, and I want you to be lead in this case... do whatever you can to find this nurse you were telling me about. If the sewer bust doesn't go the way we want, we'll need to find her... whats your name son"  
>The younger man shifts on his feet, feeling ao incredibly awkward beneath stares of a man he held in such high esteem. <em>Is this fucking happening.<em>  
>"John... John Blake"<br>Jim settles back on the pile of stark white pillows beneath his head, a new wave of dizziness pulling at his mind, and smiles.  
>"I want you down there when the raid the sewers, go on now, and report back directly to me... and pray to god luck is on our side".<p>

Jim fell into a doze slowly as the last of his words trailed into silence. Blake standing there like he had been for the last hour, with an inscrutable look on his face before releasing his breath and promptly leaving. He had things to do. Mainly, end this shit storm before it blew up in his face. And he"ll be damned to hell before he lets terrorists take control.

And he wants the girl, even if they manage to dismantle the cell, or whatever they are during the raid today, he still wants to question her. Even if its to simply understand why. Why she would turn her back on the very city she was born into; what about these people meant more to her than innocent life. He just couldn't rap his mind over the simple atrocity of it.

Focusing his mind on the task ahead, Blake keys the ignition of his patrol car, his teeth grinding as he makes a sharp, hard U-turn out of the hospital parking lot and out into the street. In a b-line for the mass of officers and swat teams readying themselves for the storming of the sewers, and whatever nightmare hid within its darkness.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

May is going to scream. One more minute locked up in this over done, pompous room and she was going to claw her own eyes out. After Barsad had left the evening before, he made it sound like she could have a little more freedom, something about a common area he'd show her. But the man had never came back, and she waited. And waited and waited some more.

_Where's__ Bane..__._

Nervous snooping had turned into pacing, which turned into a pathetic attempt at reading some unmanageably dull book on politics that she had come across, and that led to a bath... which turned into a shower. Which turned into an infuriating chain of fitful cat naps and horrible nightmares. Which led her to now, sitting stock still on the big stupid bed, fuming like a child. And she was mad.

Though many times throughout the night and early morning her mind had tried to tell her to just be fucking grateful. At least she was in a warm cushy place and not handcuffed to a damned railing a million feet underground with a bunch of stinking men. It would work to, for a bit, then her animosity would grow, and her anxiety would rocket within her. Not to mention she was starving, and with the locked door of her room she couldn't even poke her head out and yell for anyone.

Well, there wasn't much stopping her from screaming to the high heavens right now, but somehow, May just knew that such behavior would not be answered and certainly would not be appreciated.  
>So she bit her tongue, crossed her arms, and waited. Her mind rolling between the whereabouts of her new, sort of, but not really friend, and her menacing Captor. More on the latter than she will ever admit. Her thoughts are deceitful, traitorous things, and his image was never far, as much as she tried to keep it away.<p>

May breathed deep, trying to banish her irritation and anxiety as she climbed on top of the ridiculous brocade comforter again and stretched across the bed. Thinking that maybe if she tried hard enough she's fall back asleep. But May didn't know how far away sleep was about to be.

It happened in the next moment, just as she was laying down. Thunder exploded, an ear-splitting, shattering sound engulfed her and she screamed. Leaping from the bed as the building shook with force, her room rattled and quaked. Watching that damned chandelier sway dangerously on its wire with wide and terrified eyes.  
>Then it stopped, the earth shaking tremors ceasing as suddenly as they came.<br>Her heart racing, breaths bellowing out in gasps, she waited. Her eyes roaming about the room expecting it to shake again. Waiting for the fire to the smoke she smells, but none comes.  
>"Fuck".<br>Her voice is lost behind the drums in her head, as she slowly pries herself from the bed and walks on rubber legs to the only window in the room. And what she sees is like a nightmare.  
>People are screaming. Running. The street directly below her is in ruin. Rubble and decimated slabs of concreted, severed rebar and the mangled steal carcases of cars pinpointed the detonation sight of what she thinks now was some kind of bomb. And May watched, crossing her arms tightly across her chest as a massive eruption of dark, black smoke rolled towards the heavens.<p>

After awhile May dragged her eyes from the window. Clenching her jaw against the sudden onslaught of shudders that began to control her cold body. She wants to curl up under the blanket and sleep. She wants to sleep forever.

When she bent down to slip her boots from her feet she sees it, but she won't wonder till later how she could have missed such a thing in the hours spent alone here.  
>Abandoning the bed and leaving her feet still clad in her boots May approaches the thin wardrobe, partially hidden by the window's long bellowing curtains.<br>It doesn't look like much, but now that she's actually standing in front of the piece of furniture, just a little less extravagant then the thousands of other things in this place, she opens it and almost laughs. Almost.

The left over shock of the bomb, or whatever, is still rattling in her blood, her finger shaking as she pushes the power button, hoping. Praying, that it still had power.  
>Instantly the screen roared to life and she yelped, jumping in her skin at the unexpected static blaring out from its speakers. After turning it down to a manageable level, May curled up tight on the bed, holding her knees close to her chest and started to flip through the channels, almost stopping at an old rerun of friends till she happened across a local news station, and a sight that made her heart stop. Had her shooting straight up as the blood drained from her face. All the while that stupid organ, hidden beneath the confines of her ribs beat all the harder.<p>

It was him

_Bane._

Her heart pangs and throbs as her eyes subconsciously rake over his imposing, commanding form.

And all the fucking camera's were on him, and the giant fucking bomb thing behind him.

_What have you done..._

She spots Barsad a second later, standing stoic and loyal as usual right behind the massive body of his Commander. Gun in hand, unreadable expression on his face. And May wanted to throttle him. She could hear what Bane was saying, giving his impressive, dominating speech. And she knew then, that whatever that explosion was, it was because of him.  
>Bane's voice silenced the destroyed stadium, each pair of eyes locked onto him. And he revelled in it, his words resonating throughout the air like cracking lightning as he spoke.<p>

All at once charming and devil like.

He says he is going to give Gotham back to its people. Rip the wealthy and élite from their homes, no outside interference... or everyone dies.  
>A cold shiver flares down the nerves in her spine.<p>

_Is he serious..._

She wants to know, and she doesn't. It was almost a good plan, no blood bath slaughter, no child sacrifices. And as shocking and alarming as this bomb was, as the explosion outside her window was, Bane said the big one wouldn't be detonated... that it was there to make sure things happened the way they were supposed to. A threat of force, a push of power, and he had Gotham on its knees. And all they want is to liberate her city...

_Can I trust him?... no, don't be stupid...but.._

It's not the first time she thinks this, and it wont be the last. Though she does try to not think about the strange, weird, fucked up thing that's stirring within her. Wondering if she can trust the man whose keeping her prisoner.

_But I've always been a prisoner... I'm just treated better now._

Even when she was free, she wasn't really free. Like fear, cages changed shape. Turning from the heavy hand of a man, to the crushing force of poverty and a crime consumed government, to the powerful soul of her liberator. At least now, she wasn't being beaten, she wasn't being starved...

_He kills people you twit, no wonder you always end up like this... a fucking psychopath magnet._

And the next moment, like she had tellepathically willed him to do it, Bane snapped the neck of the old man kneeling at his feet. She gasps, a small pale hand flying to her lips as the crowd watching screams.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Another three hours passes till the door rattles, the lock disengages and finally, Barsad steps over the threshold. From her spot prone on the bed, chin digging painfully into the skin of her forearms, she watches him. Noticing how drawn and tired he looks. His eyes cold and heavy dart to the window and the still dark smoke rising from the cratered street below.

Barasad sighs deeply, running a weathered, calloused hand over the thickening scruff on his face before venturing further in, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat. His rifle slung across his back.  
>May doesn't move, doesn't do anything expect smile painfully at him. Somehow, she knows he wont tell her what happened.<p>

"Are you hungry?", he asks after another beat, his voice as weary as the rest of him. May nods silently, and starts to pull herself from the bed. Each movement is slow and stiff, her face falling a little more each second.  
>But she stays silent, and simply follows him out of the room and into the hallway that's to bright for their aching eyes.<p>

By the time they get in the elevator and leave it again, May is biting her tongue. She wants to probe him for information again, but she doesn't know how, or what to ask... what to say.

Something is different now and she isn't sure if its her or him. Maybe just start out simple... go from there. Either way, she wants, needs something.

An explanation... for everything.

When she finally has enough courage to open her mouth, Barsad has led her into what she thinks must have been a ballroom of some kind. But now with an army of men living there,, the obnoxious over the top room has been transformed into a mess hall. The fancy dining tables set out for full capacity across the black and gold veined marble floor.  
>Barsad's voice interrupts her mind as she judges the view, her eyes snap to his and she thinks for the first time since knowing him that he looks, sad... defeated. She wants to ask now, but can't find the words. They stick in her throat, to her tongue that's starting to feel to big in her mouth.<p>

"The kitchen isn't stocked yet, so I hate tell you that you'll have to suffer through MRE's for a bit" he smiled briefly before leading her to the back of the room. A pile of box's is set up here, the first row opened up to show tightly packed packages.  
>May had never seen these before, and watched with a weak curiosity as Barsad crouched down and started sifting through them.<br>"So, what'll your flavor be... Turkey dinner, Mack n' cheese... there's, uh, cheese burger..." he looks back up at her, waiting for her decision. One that May isn't sure she wants to make. She'd heard about the military meals reputation, and despite her hunger, wasn't sure if she wanted to test it... but damn. She was starving, fuck it.

"Uh... how, bout... the Mack n' Cheese" she mumbles, not sure if this is a terrible choice or not. Barsad certainly doesn't give anything away, simply nods his head, grabs two and then stands.  
>After retrieving a couple of water bottles and plastic forks, the pair find a table off near north exit and sit down. He's into his food right away, and May struggles with simply opening the package, though when she does, and discovers the sloppy, wet, orange goop inside she thinks she might not be as hungry as she thought.<br>"It's not as bad as it looks" Barsad says, a trace of humor lacing his voice for the first time that day, and hands her a fork. He doesn't take his eyes off her, waiting, as she slides the prongs into the mess and takes a bite.  
>May doesn't swallow at first, she can't. Her throat practically convulsing at the horrifying texture rolling around her tongue. She wants to gag, to spite it out and snap at him. But she doesn't, and forces the shit down her gullet.<br>"Oh...oh my god... that, is fucking gross..." May shivers, taking a huge gulp of her water before pointing her fork at him, a lock of dark hair escaping the usual mess tied to the top of her head, "you lied to me!".  
>He smiled at her a little easier than before and shook his head.<br>"No, I said it's not as bad as it looks... and simply forgot that you have to get used to it before that's true". Now it was Mays turn to smile. But the smile didn't last long before it faltered and fell away completely. Surprised she'd forgotten about before... about the bomb, the dead man. Even for the brief few seconds such a thing could slip her mind caused an enormous bubble of guilt to force it way into her already over weighted heart.  
>Bane flashed across the backs of her eye lids, his rolling, strong back to her. His head titled, turned to look behind him. Those eyes, threatening, pinning her to the spot as if he as actually there before her and not a part of her imagination. She shook her head, trying to dispel the man from her mind... it didn't work, it never worked.<br>"Hey, Um... can I ask you something.." the breath she lets out is tentative, but she doesn't know what she's scared of. There's so much raging within her, battling and tugging at her heart. It's confusing within the confines of her head. Red lines are blurred, and the truths that she seeks should be clear. It should be an easy moral judgment to make. Simply because May always thought of herself as a good person. Kind, caring... despite the hell she has crawled through. But it's not like that, and somewhere along the way, in her hours alone or in the company of men fit for a jail cell, something began to shift and blur. Her heart and soul raging against one mans inherent cruelty and the next minute pines for his presence... drawn to something within the monster that she can't see. Its to clouded, to dark with corruption and hate. It's there, and she wishes it wasn't.

She hates to think of what this means... this... this, whatever it is, that's pulling and pushing her. Afraid of what it makes her, of what its turning her into.

Barsad snorts at her question, shoveling a large and disgusting fork full into his mouth before setting his eyes on her with a leveling stare. May stays silent.  
>"Everytime you say that, it's usually followed by things I can't answer..." he pauses, taking a sip from his own water, "does it have to do with Bane?".<br>Mays eyes widen for a second, something in his tone is... is different, but she can't place it. And it's unnerving her, her cheeks burning beneath his scrutiny.  
>"Uh...no, well... maybe, but that doesn't mean all of it is... " something has happened in the last few seconds, though she has no idea what. She can feel it. A nervous squirm in her gut that makes her heart beat harder, like she's just been caught stealing.<br>"Well, in that case, wait with it... Bane wants to speak to you this evening when he's done dealing with Ta- with other problems" Jesus Christ, Brasad scowls at his own near slip. He's getting to comfortable with her. He needs to be more careful, simply to stave off the wrath of his Commander, knowing Bane would be anything but happy that his most trusted man was blabbing league secrets to the nurse.

Barsad leaned back in his chair, growing more comfortable when he realized that May hadn't caught on to hick-up. But was now looking strangely down at her fingers as she soundlessly rubbed the soft pads together. Little rhythmic circles to bring herself comfort, and he wonders briefly if she's the only one who has ever given that gift to her.  
>"Why?... um, Why, does he need to see me?" even she can hear the change in her voice. The way its grown soft and timid. And she hates it, its pathetic and weak. She hates the look he's giving her, like he knows something she doesn't.<br>"Don't worry, you're not in trouble... I believe he wants to discuss your arrangement, being the medical expert that you are, he said it would be best to get your opinion on how to set up the medical center we need" Barsad knows he sound smug, but he can't help it. With each word he utters, May's cheeks become a darker and darker pink.  
>"Why'd he kill that man?", the words spit out of her lips before she can stop them, but she wants to know... she wants to hate Bane for it. She wants to know why she doesn't. She wants to know why the thought to escape never even crossed her mind when she saw him kill his own men.<p>

This doesn't surprise Barsad either, and he figures it best she question himself about it than the alternative. Though he knows Bane, despite himself, would never lay an untoward hand on her... but May doesn't know that, and the man can certainly be fearful when he wishes it .  
>"It was a necessary thing... one that I am sorry for", the breath he releases sounds so defeated that May's heart clenches for him, "Bane... must do certain things... there are steps that must be taken... whether we want to or not", he's starting to struggle. His duty and loyalty to Bane begging to rub with the insistent and growing desperation to... to save them all from a fate they have not earned.<p>

"So why do it then?" May hisses at him, her voice a brash whisper. Cutting through the growing tension between them. And she'll keep pushing, he knows it. Can sense it, the desperation in her own eyes and rigid shoulders, though he knows she cant see it. Cant understand it. But maybe a little guidance...a little truth; a few words. Like planting a seed.

He could do that, he would do it for Bane. It was fragile ground to be treading. Knowing the emotional glass most woman possessed, but maybe, if he gave her a little bit. Played to her compation, to the part of her that would understand.

With a deep breath and a prayer sent up to the empty sky, Barsad made up his mind, at least he didn't have to lie.  
>"Lets go back to your room May, and we'll talk... just not here"<br>May nods at once, something bursting within her and she nods maybe a little more eagerly than she should, and stands to follow him out.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Blake groaned, a hacking cough tearing a searing pain from his lungs as he tried to breathe. As his body tried to expel the choking dust that clouds and blinds him.  
>Waving a hand before him, Blake stood on trembling knees. His ears ringing as he slowly took in the streets around him and the chaos that erupted throughout Gotham.<br>They had been duped.

He had been a fool.

"Anyone... is... is there anyone up here?" he pleads into the radio he still caries with him, unable to give the thing up with his uniform. Nothing responds but static. All the fucking cops are buried beneath his feet.

"Fuck" Blake turns, looking one way, then the other. Watching as people ran to their homes, dust and blood clinging to their skin. To their cloths, and his gut flopped.  
>He needs the commissioner.<br>No, he needs Batman. But Batman has disappeared again, and he has no idea where, though deep down he knows it's because of this terrorist and his mercenaries, because of that damned woman, that he's gone. Batman wouldn't leave them now... not when the city he fought so hard to defend needed him most.  
>But batman wasn't here, and Gotham was still in trouble...<br>Blake frowns as he begins to jog down the street... Thinking of the simple mishap of running late to the sewer raid left him the only cop above ground. Well, hopefully not the only one.  
>He had the commissioner, and the Captain. Maybe if he can round-up enough people they can find the mercenaries hideout since it certainly isn't in the sewers anymore.<p>

It's in the city now and there wont be many places to hide.

He needs a scouting party, no... what he needs is a way to the girl. Refusing to give up the effort of her capture, Blake is sure she's, at the very least, a means to end this. He's certain of it. Blake changes direction, and begins to run to the closest precinct. Hoping, praying that'll he'll find some back up. He needs it now, even if he has to drag a team building to fucking building. He will find them. Find her.

He'll cover the city in pictures of her face, he'll get every citizen, every cop and criminal out for her blood. Little Miss Evans wont be able to step a foot outside without someone recognizing her pretty face.

_One step at a time. _

Find backup.


	9. Miasma

In the fell clutch of circumstance,

I have not winced nor cried aloud,

Under the bludgeonings of chance,

My head is bloody but unbowed.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

May is sitting on the pinnacle of change. She can feel it, but does not recognize what it is.

She can sense it in her blood. Rushing through her veins, through her heart. Raging within in her as that cursed organ pounds within its cage. A deafening drum in her mind. Her fingers twist and pull, rubbing incessantly, seeking comfort in a world that only deals in cold cruelty. And she waits, sweat beading across her brow, between the ridges of her shoulder blades. Her breath quick, silent. gasps as she stares hard at the man sitting before her. His whiskered jaw clenched tight as he thinks very carefully over the words he will speak to her. A decision he is sure is as unwise as it is detrimental.

He must do this, break the silence if you will. But its hard, and he feels like he's betraying the one man who ever gave him a chance. _No, this is for Bane_, even if his Commander wouldn't understand. Which he wont, Barsad knows he wont. A man like him is set in his ways. Carved in granite and immensely private. Looking into the young womans eyes though, he knows she is his only chance, a long shot. Nearly impossible, but if he doesn't do this, well, they'll all die anyway.

"You must promise me May, before anything else...that you not speak a word of this... to anyone, most of all Bane" his voice is low, a grave whisper even though it would be impossible to be overheard, "he will see this as a treason against him. He will be unforgiving... Swear to it".  
>May flinched at the hissed rush of his words but her head is nodding vigorously before she can even consider this, before she can even take a second to wonder if its wise. As soon as her doubt slips in it's pushed out. Scared as she is, she feels like she's on the cusp of some great discovery. Like she's going to find that missing puzzle piece, the one that will tie all the loose, crazy threads together. And maybe this insanity in her own head will finally make sense. But she's still scared. Scared of what he will say, scared of Bane, scared of only ending up more confused and lost than she is now.<p>

"I promise" her voice is soft, low and breathless. Her eyes locked intently on his as she sits on the bed and he on a chair confiscated from another room. Big, black rifle resting in his lap. Barsad sighs, his gaze shifting from hers to the room around them. Looking from random thing to random thing before finally returning to her.

"Bane... Bane is a complicated man, born into a world of cruelty and pain" Barsad told her, his voice growing soft as Mays brows furrowed, "he has survived horrors that should have killed him, atrocities that he wont even tell me, and all because he had tried to protect... tried to save someone who could not do it themselves..."  
>A cold flush lights down her spin, her heart beat picking up. Barsad wasnt sure how far to take this, but he needs it to be enough... enough to make the monster seem human. Even if he doubted there was any humanity left to be salvaged from the soul of that man, he would try. Looking now at May, there is something in her eyes that makes his own hope brighten even if only a little.<br>Something that looks a lot like empathy, not pity... not even sympathy, he knows it must be, because she knows... she knows what its like. Though this to, is simple conjecture on his end, and maybe its dangerous to make so many assumptions, but again, considering the end of all this is death... What does he have to lose.

"Despite the hate and the chronic pain, he has devoted his life to cleansing the earth of men like the ones who tortured him..." he takes a breath, trying to calm the guilt of his betrayal, but May's soft voice halts him before he can speak again.

"I understand you can't tell me everything...and, it makes sense, what you've said, and the way he is, and stuff... and God help me I can even... sort of get why he killed his own men, you know, someone like him plus power, hatred and an army or whatever, but the old man I saw on tv... he didn't need to kill him, that wasnt... the bombs enough," her eyes shone, the pressure growing within her chest was becoming crushing. Harder to breath, harder to think straight... the lines between the dots where starting to become visible, but she still couldn't grasp it.

"It's a guaranty, a shield against the outside world, we can't save Gotham with the military in our faces... he did what was needed, he always does... and it is always the hard choices he makes, simply because no one else will, or is capable. You must trust me when I say he does not kill without lightly, or without remorse, though it may seem that way... Bane has simply, accepted his fate".  
>May frowned, immediately disliking the finality of that statement, making it sound ike he was going to die soon. She pushed that from her mind, refusing to alow her thoughts to entertain the paths that it led, and instead focused on what little bits of light had been shed into such an impenetrable darkness.<br>Because she knows the word survive, she knows endure. And she knows pain. May knows what lengths one will go to in the midst of surviving, when there is no other way, when you have no choice. Suddenly all those things you said you would never do become possible, then they become necessary. She doesn't know what he had survived, but she can't get the image of his back from her minds eyes. The rolling plains of power and strength, severed right down the middle by the deepest, most horrific scar. And she knows, you don't just get over shit like that, no matter how big you are... ya, she knows, without having to know.  
>In the end, pain and anguish, they're all the same beneath different faces.<p>

But all that, _all of that_ aside, she still can't just... accept him for what he's done. How he can snuff a mans life out so casually. Barsad's words echo in her ears, reminding her that Bane, the monstrous Liberator of Gotham, doesn't like what he does, he feels remorse, but it is necessary. He is the necessary evil.

She thinks again that she should hate him. That she should be trying everything in her power to escape, but the thought never passes her mind. And May wonders what kind of person that makes her. Yeah she can relate, if Barsad is telling the truth, she knows all to well what its like to be terrorized, but it still doesn't give him the right to turn into what he's trying to save the world from.

This is when the guilt comes, for thinking of him like this, as the stark images, photographs in her mind, flash spraying blood and brain and bone. Her hands are anything but clean. Her crime had been a necessary act of survival... May shakes her head, pushing away the pressure in her chest that's trying to tell her she's no better.

"Look, I can understand this is hard for you, to accept him for what he is... but it is no different than the rest of us, the league of shadows, myself included... and you" Barsad declared, his eyes baring into the pale hazel pools of her own, trapping her there, throwing her in the same pit of sin as the rest of them. She is no different, she is the same.

May doesn't know what to say now, as his words batter the confines of her mind. She hugs her arms around her tight, bites the dry skin of her lips as panic begins the force its way up her throat. Her eyes follow Barsad as he stands, looking more uncomfortable than he ever has before, eyes darting everywhere but her.

"I have to go, but Ill be back to escort you to Bane in a few hours... just remember, he isn't the heartless devil he projects, ok... and don't forget your promise" a final abrupt nod of his head and he's gone, leaving May in a tail spin. Nothing is clear. Nothing makes anymore sense than it did before. If anything she is left more confused and afraid, though again, her fear has changed.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

By the time Blake makes it to the closest precinct he isn't hopeful. Fear and adrenaline coursing through him as he pushes his way inside the ruined building. Off to the right something sparks, darkening the shadows and the suffocating dust that fills the air. Support beams and shattered florescent lights hang dangerously from the cracked stucco ceiling and Blake carefully picks out his footing. Ducking and overstepping the debris of the station left to rot after the city-wide explosions.

For a while, going slow, all he could hear was the laborious rasp of his own breathes, until making his way down the stairs towards the holding cells. At first he thought it was just the building, creaking and groaning in its destruction, until the sounds became muffled, hushed voices. His heart kicking up a storm as his feet picked up the pace.

At the bottom, past the row of cells is a door, a little busted but intact. When Blake reaches it he silences his breathing and pushes one ear up against its cold, steel surface and listens.

Voices, a lot of voices. The sound sends a jolt through his system and the next second he's wrenching the barrier open.

"Oh thank God" he breathes out, his own eyes taking in the mass of people all huddled around each other. Dirty, bloody, and terrified, but fucking alive.

"John!" Pembroke rushes forward from the crowd, his forehead a mangled mass of bandages and blood, but the look of shock and relief in his eyes makes Blake's throat swell.

"It's good to see you man... fuck, your alive... all the cops... they're".

Blake puts a hand on Pembroke's shoulder, offering him a weak smile and nod to say he understands, but they don't have time for this, not now and he needs help.

"I need help, from anyone able and willing to fight back against the terrorists" looking from his friend to the watching crowd, noting familiar faces among strangers as they all begin to nod, though some a lot more hesitant than the others. No one says a word, waiting for him to continue.

"I have an idea, about how to do this... before, before the bombs, me and my partner were investigating a woman with ties to these men, I believe she is the key to bringing them down," Blake addresses like this is a normal day at the office, like they're all cops and not a majority of roughed up civilians.

Just as he's about to speak again, laying out the basis of his plan, a woman he somewhat recognizes steps forward into the light. Her face pretty, framed by curling warm brown hair. Her coat alone tells him what her social standing is though simply the way she holds herself would have been enough.

Rich.

"And what woman would this be officer, these men do not seem to be the type to fall because of something as precarious as romance" her voice strong and lilted, foreign, but Blake cant place from where.

He looks at her a beat longer, before sweeping his gaze back across his waiting audience, ignoring the interruption.

"Her name is Maybell Evans, 26 years old, has been spotted in the company of this groups leader on more than one occasion, once by a security tape and by our own Commissioner who reported that the woman seemed close to the masked man and his subordinates... we find her, we find them... take her down, alive... and soon, I feel we're running out of time on this one... whatever these guys want, well, they're not finished with us yet" Blake's voiced rushed over the crowd, strong and sure and true. He smiled at them, shooting a thankful glance to Pembroke.

The woman scowls inwardly as she plasters an endearing smile to her painted lips, her initial fear and freezing panic had been replaced by something else, something much darker and more painful. Anger spitting up within her as she tried to remain calm. But all she could think was he had lied.

_He lied to me. ME!_

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_Calm the fuck down! _May snapped, pacing restlessly back and forth across the carpet. Her heart roaring in her throat as her head spun. A cold sweat soaking her pale skin, and she shivered.

Barsad had left her a bit over two hours ago, and May had done little else since. She didn't understand why this was such a big fucking deal now, well.. he is the violent, crazy leader of a terrorist organization, so there is that... but it's not the same. No matter how hard she tries to ignore this, this... thing. It's still there, clinging like fat to her insides. It feels wrong, and divergent. Warm and nauseating, like thousands of squirming, rushing insects alive within her gut. She wants it to stop, but it wont. A part of her _knows,_ but she wont acknowledge it. As if accepting this... this thing within her, would finally nail in the last spike and everything she had fought for would disintegrate. Sounds crazy right? May knows it does, but she can't let go, the grip on her own denial is iron clad. And it all centers around one masked man.

A few moments later, as May relents and pulls her cracking leather boots back on, a strong knock resounds throughout the room. She jumps, feeling dizzy with adrenaline and fear and anxiety. Her voice shakes as she speaks.

"C-come in"

Barsad is there a second later, his face set in his usual rigid lines. He looks over her before nodding his head for her to follow. May does without a sound. Her feet padding along softly down the corridor and right to the elevator banks.

Once the doors ding open and she steps inside after her guide her thoughts echoing of this mans confidences...the secrets he shared. She watches as he presses a button for the floor one story up, and something in her chest tightens when she realizes that Bane has been awfully close this whole time.

By the time they're off the lift and walking through a much more spacious and illustrious suite than her own, Mays face is burning. Forcing her eyes around her, soaking up the wealth and beauty of the massive paintings that hung along one wall, at the dark cherry carved wood of the tables and chairs in what must be a dinning room. They pass a series of closed doors that spike her curiosity, but never even thinks to ask. Remaining silent with her thoughts until Barsad stops walking. He's eyeing her narrowly from the corner of his eye and she nods, as if to tell him that she knows to keep her promise. Then he's knocking, once, twice. Loud and sure before turning swiftly and leaving back the way they'd come.

May is standing with wide eyes and a raging heart, thundering, beating within her chest. She wipes her sweaty palms on her tights and begins to shift on her feet. Eyeing the exit, she's starting to think that maybe he's just not here until his voice beckons her from the other side. Two words, loud and powerful tainted with the rasp of the mask. Now she feels like fucking fainting. Her hand trembling as she reaches it out and turns the cold handle.

Feeling all the while that somehow, something is happening, its pivotal and... and..

_Bane._

Her blood is roaring in her ears. And now, now she can't think straight, her eyes locked to he familiar massive, bulging mountains of his shoulders as he sits away from her at a desk near the back of a room that a small part of her mind recognizes as a library.

His head is bent forward, throwing more definition to the muscles in his back, stretching the black fabric till it was nearly skin-tight. And god damn her, she was surely doomed to hell for the way her skin lit and burned, the heat coiling and pooling within her. She couldn't move let alone speak, and it took her off guard to a degree she had never anticipated. She never saw this, her own reaction to him coming on so bloody strong. She felt disgusted with her self, and a little more like the traitor she was slowly turning into. Maybe Barsad's talk with her, as short and vague as it had been, had affected her more than she had realized.

"Come here" this close to him now, his voice reverberates within her blood, a jolt of something she can only describe as lightning shoots through her in time with the rushing fear . And now she really is feeling dizzy, pushing one foot in front of the other as she nears his side.

She's scared of so many things in this moment, most she can't name. But it's there anyway, bubbling up into her stomach, churning raw. May is scared of him, of his power and his violent aggression. She scared of his dominating soul, of his pain. She's terrified of connecting with this. She doesn't want to.

She doesn't want to feel kindred to his tragedy.

Then she's there, standing beside him, nails biting into the flesh of her palms, hating the way his body dwarfs her, as she stands and he sits.

May gasps silently when his eyes snap to hers. She knows she's staring, but she can't look away from the cold, slate grey that's piercing her.

His gaze narrows.

"You still fear me?"

_What? _May is thrown by this, his rasping breaths fill her head, making it hard to focus, to think. Not to mention what he had just asked was soooo far from where her head was stuck that it was almost funny. Almost.

"Uh...um- no, I don't" if she could have slapped her self in that moment, she would have, hating how breathless and airy her voice sounded. Loathing the way her cheeks just burned. God, and she was so close to him... why had she stopped so close to him. The smell of him, it's intoxicating. It was the only way to describe what it was doing to her insides, as her mind screamed at her to get a fucking grip, that Barsad had poisoned her and its the only reasonable explanation for her fucking stupid behaviour.

Bane's eyebrows furrowed before rising a little. Confused by his little nurses strange behavior, by the way she had walked up so close to him of her own violation. His lips twitched, cracking into a small smirk beneath the confines of his mask.

"Clearly" he stated ambiguously, putting the papers down he had been reading over to fully turn and face her. Watching as her lips snapped shut, her eyes widen a fraction and she t a taking step back. Her small, pale hands wringing nervously in their own grasp. For a reason he couldn't fathom, he wanted to reach out and take hold of them.

"You... you uh-um, wanted to see me, sir" May felt like a dolt, standing their under the most intense scrutiny she had ever endured, as the giant man before her simply stared. His gaze scorching straight through her flesh and into her soul.

Bane's eye's flicked up to hers when her voice broke whatever spell he had fallen under, and he stood. The shadow cast by his towering form engulfed her.

And May took another step back, this time, crossing her arms over her chest, warding him off... comforting herself. Her eyes cemented to him a he walked slowly around her, and all he looked like was a massive, dangerous predator. Hands placed casually behind his back emphasized the girth of his chest, the bulging muscles in his arms.

_I'm going to go to hell_... she thinks, knowing that this has to be some kind of terrible sin. That she has to be some kind of monster simply for being uncontrollably drawn to this devil.

"Yes, we need to make a proper clinic here, there are rooms large enough for such an endeavor on the first and second floors... I will need you to provide me with an itinerary of medical supplies," Bane's voiced rolls over her and May finds it a little hard to concentrate. She' being ridiculous and stupid but she can't seem to crawl out of the hole her sanity had fallen into. Thankfully, she manages to nod when he stops talking for moment. His eyes cutting to her again and she isn't sure why he's looking at her like that. Like he cant figure her out.

Each second that ticks by in silence brings May even closer and closer to freaking out. She doesn't know how to deal with this, with him. Now she's wondering why Barsad even bothered talking to her in the first place, that in and of itself didn't make much sense now that she thinks about it. So he must have an angle, or something... no body did anything from the simple kindness of their hearts. Not Barsad, not even her.

Now she really wanted to scream.

"Something troubles you"

The sudden intrusion of Bane's powerful voice jerked her painfully from her thoughts, to realize with surmounting horror that, again, she had been staring. And he was staring right back, though the look on his face was one of growing frustration.

"I uh-um, n-nothing sir-"

"Don't call me that" Bane ground out, interrupting her stumbling attempts of speech. Though he doesn't know why. Everyone addresses him as sir, so why is it bothering him to her the title slip past her lips.

"Oh-ok, um, Bane" she says, feeling stupid, "um, and I'm, I'm fine, nothing to worry about", her tone of voice says she's anything but fine.

Bane frowns down at her, he's about to ask again. To demand an answer when someone knocks heavily against the door.

May's heads snaps to the source as Bane sighes, rolling his shoulders to ease the growing tension building there before demanding for whoever it is to enter.

Immediately the door opens, and a man May doesn't recognize. His skin dark like molasses, his head shaved like the big boss. The man goes to say something but when he sees May he stops, eyes narrowing, darting between her and Bane like he had just busted them necking under the bandstand.

"Speak" Bane hisses, the mask morphing his voice into something terrifying. May watches with rapt, petrified attention as the energy that was rising in the room suddenly crescendos.

The man jumps and immediately starts talking, never looking at her again.

"Sir, um, Miss Al Gul requests an audience with you... now"

May frowns, completely unaware until this moment that there was another woman within the ranks of the League. And she tries desperately to ignore the sickening twist this news brings to her gut.

Bane, it seems is no less pleased, if the growl that May swears she just hear rumble from his chest is anything to g by.

"Escort her back to her room" he says a moment later, and May just watches as the man reaches for her arm.

"Do not touch her Durant"

The man, Durant, snatches his hand back with a snap nodding to his Leader before beckoning to May with a jerk of his head, one of which she follows hesitantly, casting a nervous glance back at Bane who has already turned away from her.


	10. A good woman

Hey guys! Im sorry this took so long, but ya know, Christmas and New Years and way to many people around kinda slowed everything down and I couldn't get much if any writing down. BUT holidays are over and here's a new chapter! I hope you guys like it, I had a hard time with this one, a lot of stop and go over the last few days, so I hope if flows good and what not. Well, anyway, enjoy!

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"I was walking,

walking down the Jericho Road,

and every mile that I traveled showed,

walking down the Jericho Road".

-Steve Earle.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Talia Al Gul stalks impatiently back and forth. Her hands, small and rough with callous are clasped firmly behind her back. She is mad; a raging storm of hurt and indignation brew within her breast, beneath the layers of expensive fabric she has grown so used to.

_How can he do this!._ She spits silently, the only sound is her heavy breaths and the click, click, click of her heals on the marble floor.

Waiting... he is making her wait, and it infuriates her more. She doesn't understand why he does this. To punish her? Has she done something wrong?

She's always been there for him, like he has for her. Always.

_Forever._

Talia's lips set in a firm thin line. Brows scrunched together as her mind flashes over the face of that girl. The one he said didn't matter. The one he said was a nobody.

A prisoner, who certainly didn't look like one... standing alone in_ his_ room. She wants to break something... she wants to kill someone.

Another moment longer and she very well may have, but the heavy oak door swings wide in the next beat and Talia spins as Bane steps across the threshold; his shoulders almost don't fit the doorway.

"You called" is all he says. His voice breaking the quiet and ending the incessant smack of her shining black pumps.

Talia doesn't respond right away, narrowing her brown eyes at him. Eyes, that had seemed so warm once... so full of love and purpose, where now cold and dark. And this, this ached within him like a deep set infection.

Bane is preparing for the whiplash he is about to receive from her, though he doesn't know the reason for such a thing. He can see the fire burning behind her eyes, aimed at him none-the-less.

But he is calm, staring patiently upon her as only someone like him can do. Years afters years worth of care and blackened history expanse between them, he can feel it. Their waining connection; can she?

Talia takes a step forward, then another. Her penetrating gaze leaves his masked face and turns to the carved granite of the fire place, her eyes dance in the firelight, bitter and hateful. And then something happens, something just beyond the surface and she changes. He watches as her face brightens. The stressed wrinkles like fractures in her skin relax and vanish, her lips a second ago set in a thin line pucker out and soften. Gone suddenly is the raving queen, in her place is the small girl he'd kept as his own. This transformation confuses Bane; the way she looks to him now, eyes big and gleaming. A strange and gentle smile tugging at her full lips, her shoulders drooping from the rigidness they had held only seconds ago. And none of it seems real.

Thing is, Bane knows something about anger, and he knows something about hate. And he knows Talia has been consumed by these things for years. It is why they are in Gotham, it is the only reason they are here. He also knows, that no matter how hard one may try, you can never vanquish you're demons. He hasn't seem this woman without hers since the day her world had been torn apart... so this, this version of her, he doesn't understand where it comes from. He wants to think that its just something she's going through, or maybe hope that this strange thing means she's getting better. That maybe she's more like the girl that he had sacrificed everything for... God, he wants to believe that so badly, but he cant. The twisting in his gut that tells him to be weary of her wont let such a foolish thing take shape. No, whatever is going on, its something else entirely.

Talia turns to face him fully, smiling wide as she walks right up to his towering form, and reaches up her hand, placing it gently against his cheek.

Bane flinches, but if she notices, she doesn't say.

"Do you love me?" she asks then, her voice a higher, soft pitch than he has ever heard it, a tone one might use with a lover. His brow furrows, deep wrinkles creasing his skin as something akin to worry blooms in his chest, though he snuffs this out before he can fully register what it is.

"You know I do" he replies after a beat. His eyes, the same cold, slate grey they always are, search her face for answers to questions he will never ask. Talia takes a step back but doesn't go farther.

"You always take such good care of me Bane, and, I don't ever want to loose that..." her gaze drops from his to the floor between their feet and he has no idea why she says this. The confusion within him grows, and beneath it something sick and visceral twists in his stomach. Again that feeling he pushes away, the one whispering that this girl, his precious girl is not in her right mind, that she cant be trusted.

"I don't want to loose you to... I cant loose you to, you understand that right?"

Anger flares up in his chest at her words, said so sweetly and so accusingly.

_What is she saying?_

Talia, above all else, knows his loyalty will not falter. She _knows_ this. Not to mention, the plan is still in progress, her very presence here is jeopardizing everything. And she comes to him about such nonsense?

"You summoned me for this?" he asks, moving back a step, widening the gap between them, "you are being temperamental and reckless Talia, if someone where to see you-"

"No one saw me!" Her eyes flash... the little girl is gone, but only for a second, "I thought you had more faith in me than that".

He tells himself he does, but deep down, he has begun to question her judgment. Though, such things will not detour him from his destiny, a fate completely bound to hers. Which ever way she runs, to destruction or salvation, he will be there at her side.

Bane doesn't respond. Talia's smile falters, a frown pulling at the corners of her lips as she looks away. Her hands cross her her chest, wrinkling the silk scarf tied about her neck.

"At any rate, I have those stupid fools eating from the palm of my hands... no one suspects me, least of all Bruce".

Bane scoffs at the casual manner in which she says the arrogant billionaire's name. It maddens him, that she has become so... so comfortable in her role. He wants to argue this, but he knows she wont hear him. Not really, and Bane has a feeling this will simply lead to an outburst of some sort, so he lets the issue drop. For now.

"Well, then why don't you go back, keep an ear on their progress. Their investigations and plans" he pushes into her personal space then, his eyes are hard and cruel. His frustration and impatient as apparent as anything could be, "and _NEVER_ question my loyalty again".

Talia doesn't falter at the deep, rattling in his words. Grinning wide instead, and Bane, Bane ignores the looks of triumph in her eyes. Shining out like she's just won at a game she's playing.

"Of coarse not, just... remember, I cant do this without you... I need all of you Bane" Talia is stressing a point he cant see, it doesn't make sense. He sighs deep, filling his chest with the stale air. Vague notes of an old floral perfume hang in the air, Bane can not smell it through the fumes hissing out of his mask and into his body. He smells nothing but chemicals.

"You are straining my patients Talia" he grounds out, standing stalk still and tall in his place. Big, heavy arms hanging limply at his sides.

The muscles in her shoulders pinch again, the temper that he knows is there somewhere flares to life inside the brown of her eyes again. Talia's own frustration beginning to eat away at whatever charade she is clinging to.

"The _girl_ Bane, I know about the girl".

For a moment there is nothing but the quiet sound of their breathing, Hers little gasps, his a rasping metallic wheeze. Bane knows instantly who she speaks of, and wonders with a rising burn which of his men had spoken to her of the little nurse, and why she feels this is any of her concern.

"The nurse is no matter to you" he says with a finality that no man would ever even consider of matching, let alone standing up to. But Talia is no man, and certainly not one of his. No, Talia does what she does, she holds no fear of him.

"Of coarse she matters, and is my business. Because you're my business" her hands fist as she speaks to him, each word coming out a little faster, a little harder than the last. He knows she's hiding useless emotions, but he doesn't care. Bane is a patient man, looking down at her with the eyes of a disconcerted father. A father who will follow his love till the ends of the earth, no matter how much he questions her mind.

"And as long as we're together, as long as this is happening and the plan is incomplete, she must go" there, she said it. Finlay deciding that sugar coating it was a bad idea, and not to mention, quit unlike her.

Bane resists the sudden need to roll his shoulders as his muscles tense. She is crossing lines Talia never has before, her behavior broaching on jealous. It makes him uncomfortable, and he breathes out deep through is nose, through the gas in the mask. Calming the surge in his steady heart beat.

"What I do, Talia... and whom I keep amongst my ranks, is of no concern to you... I will not repeat myself again" he doesn't relish speaking to her so harshly, but Talia is being unusually stubborn with him. Uncharacteristically abrasive, her mannerisms are conflicting. Not much of this is congruent, her words smelling of dishonesty. In his mind he can see the difference between her, and the soft, scared little mouse she wants gone. And for reasons Bane circumvents, he doesn't want the nurse... May, he doesn't want her to go. He doesn't want the hole her presence would leave. As small and demure as it is. As fractured and imperfect as it is, there is something about her that intrigues him. That pulls at him. Like a hazy morning light, dimmed, filtered by stained, moth eaten curtains. The little nurse is the brightest thing is this dark world, and even if Bane doesn't... wont recognize this, a part of him will not cast it out. And no one, not Talia, not anyone, will make him do otherwise.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ...

"How is it coming May?" Barsad's voice breaks the steady scrap and heavy breathing of the girl before him. May shrugs without looking, her arms, bare now without her sweater, glisten pink with sweat and her excursion. Her knees aching from hard floor but she isn't done, not even close.

"Whoever was hired to clean this place before" she huffs, sitting back on her haunches, dark hair splattered across her forhead, "Should be shot".

There's no humor in her voice; nothing but exhaustion. A kind of tired anchored so deep within her that no amount of sleep will cure it.

Barsad chuckles at her quip, May does not.

"Well, you've certainly been busy" he comments, looking around the second floor sitting room. A place Bane had appointed for the new clinical facility.

Barsad, under his command, sent a small party to the hospital and retrieved as much as they could carry and transfer. And from what he sees now, May has opened a few boxes, stacked the others and shoved all the furniture out of the way; scrubbing the tiled floor and its grouted seams to wiping down the walls. Telling Barsad it was to dirty, dusty... no condition for patients. Muttering something about contagions and bacterial infections as she set to work. Scrubbing the walls so hard in some spots that it wore down to the plaster. Though, he thinks that the injured and their health is not her reason for all she's done.

Not long after May had been escorted away from Banes quarters Barsad had led her here. Sensing her pent up energy and nerves, he simply told her to have at it. Barsad had checked up on her throughout the day, peeking in as she through poured some foul smelling liquid across the floor. Growing more and more certain that whatever had gone on with his Leader had put her sensibilities into a strange sort of tailspin.

He wants to ask if she's OK, hell, he wants to know what her and Bane had discussed, but he wont. He doesn't even entertain the idea, despite the obviousness that something is affecting her. Not once in the time that May has been with them, has he ever seen her behave like this.

Back to her task now, scrubbing with both hands, he watches May lean her weight into each stroke. Grunting out puffs of air, eyes hard as loose hair falls, sticking to the sweat gleaming on her cheeks. And now that he thinks about it, he's never seen her expend so much energy either. Usually spending her time sitting down, reading, or simply just staying quiet. It always seems to him that its like she tries to fade into the background; staying quiet and still enough that she wont be noticed. Until today, it would seem.

"I need shelves" May remarks suddenly, snapping Barsad out of his thoughts as she sits back, casting her wide eyes to his, "for- for um, the other supplies. Oh! and maybe, uh, a few baskets or something".

There's a strange glint to those hazel orbs that Barsad cant figure out. A sort of nervousness that has her trembling slightly, a wire bristled scrub brush clutched white knuckled in one hand well the other fists tightly in her lap. The way she looks like she's going to jump up and start screaming is making Barsad uncomfortable, he's only just recently gotten used to dealing with her and he doesn't want to be forced to calm her down if she looses it and starts wailing.

But it isn't hysteria. As a little smile spreads across her face he sees it.

Eager, May looks eager, like a child about to beg their parent for something they want. Its strange, all the days they have spoken together, asking questions of each other , building this tenuous friendship, May has always been lethargic, mousy, and pliable. He's ever seen her this way before. Its disconcerting, and Brasad eyes her warily, shifting on his feet as she begins to speak.

"I um, I want to go outside, just for a bit" the words rush out form between her lips as she stands up, eyes trained to the one of the few familiar faces in her life now, "you can take me! We can get some shelves or whatever, an maybe new cloths or something... but I really need some fresh air, please Barsad".

Barsad had taken a step back, frowning though he should have known this was coming. Of coarse she'd want to leave at some point, one can only stay cramped up inside for so long before its to much... but May is still a prisoner here, and he doesn't have the authority to make such a call.

He could slip her out for a little bit- no, God, if something where to happen and Bane found out... well, he doesn't want to face that if he can avoid it. Besides, he cant risk May's safety, something that would be considerably harder outside of their new, temporary home.

"Please, I-I wont try and run away, I swear it, Ill, Ill do everything that you say-"Stop" Mays mouth snaps shut when he interrupts her begging. She takes a step back as Barsad takes one forward, a hand raised out to her as he says the only thing he can.

"I will speak to Bane about it, ok, he makes the finale decision" he is stern, his voice ripe with authority. Leaving no room for argument as he puts his proverbial foot down. She tells herself she knows better, but it doesn't stop his words from feeling like he'd slapped her, and she cant bring herself to fight for it now. Her eyes cast away from his as she gives in, as her lungs deflate from the held breath and all of a sudden she feels older.

_Just like that eh_, she thinks with a bitter disappointment, _always pathetic, always weak_.

Barsad watches the change slip across the milky planes of her face; watches the shadows fall as she turns away from him. That strange light that had been so strange, glimmering dimly within her is gone. Snuffed out like someone pinched the flame of a solitary burning candle. She doesn't believe Bane will grant her wish, and for a second there, Barsad almost tells her he will say yes, just to see her smile again, but he keeps his mouth closed. It seems, knowing as well as she does, that the chance of this is really quite small.

"OK" he says after a beat of strained silence, drawing Mays languid attention back to him, "I will run it by Bane, but I cant promise you anything... aside from that though, is there anything your missing, for the clinic or yourself that is necessary?" this ebbs some of the guilt that's bleeding into his heart, hoping she will take the bait and ask for something for herself. She had mentioned clothing, right?.

May bites her bottom lip as she mulls over his newest offer, her teeth pulling at the peeling skin.

_I need a ton of shit_...she thinks sourly.

A damned shelving unit for a start, not to mention a desperate change of clothes. And there's a few things at her old apartment she wouldn't mind having. Nothing all that special, and certainly not sentimental, considering she had never been able to hold on to anything important given the old circumstances she had once been trapped in, but there were books and sketch books, some makeup. Maybe Barsad would get them for her... if she makes a list, makes it easy and doesn't ask for much. May almost smiles as she turns back to her keeper, and small flicker of excitement and something not all that far from a spark of joy begin to flower.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Just, keep an eye on her, that's all" Talia grinds out, her teeth clenched painfully in her jaw as she repeats herself again, breath pluming out from between painted lips. Damned fools, every single one of them. But this man in particular, was being exceptionally stupid. His loyalty to Bane would not out rule her. He may be the commanding force, pushing their great army onward, but she is its heart. The head of the League of Shadows. Talia is the Queen, and this man will do as she asks or she will shot him where he stands.

"Y-yes Mame'" he stutters, not trusting in his throat. He can see in her eyes that the threat is real, he will die. But he wonders still, how much more worse punishment will be if Bane catches him sneaking around behind his back. Even if Talia herself said not to worry, the simple fact alone that she ordered him to not alert his Leader to this felt like betrayal. He should say no, the soldier knows this. He should look Talia in her dead eyes and tell her to go find someone else. He is loyal to one and one only. But he's scared, he's so scared of dying and he can see it, as if the black shadow of the reaper himself was clinging to the woman's back. Waiting... so he gave in, and swallowed the guilt that instantly rose within him

Talia smiled, and he couldn't help the shiver that rolled down his spine, she looked... she looked like ice and poison.

"I expect a report from you every few days, text it to my cell and speak a word of this to no one, I can not stress this enough..." she repeats again, each word ringing out in the dark, silent night around them, "Bane can not know, he has enough to worry over now and we can not trust her".

The soldier shakes his head again; he understands as much as he doesn't. But him, like everyone else in the League wont question her, wont stand up against her will. All fearful of her and her power, terrified of her strange connection with the masked mercenary they all follow.

He watches Talia give him one more bone shattering stare and then leave, the only sound in the cold air around them is the steady crack of her heals against the freezing concrete. Then she's gone, the silhouette of her long warm coat fading into blackness.


	11. Wrecked

Nothing is quite as stunning as

the heavy knuckled hand of a man who

has spent his life beating demons into the ground.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"So... he just, said yes?"

May glanced disbelievingly over at Barsad, a small smile flickering across the pale skin of her face. Cheeks reddened by the biting cold that swept through the city. A light falling sheet of snow whitened the landscape around them like a false mask. Barely concealing the dark and rotten skin beneath it. But May, like many others that day, was relieved for it. Each small flake a sliver of beauty, taking a small delight in the way in stuck to her clothing and her dark hair as she tried to ignore the obvious and incredible damage done by Bane and his bombs.

Not much more than that though, was the astonishing fact that she was, in fact, outside in the first place. When Barsad had left the other day, promising to make a request for an 'outing', she had been under the stead fast belief, as a prisoner, that it would never happen. That Bane would never even consider the idea, until her wonderful keeper came back with startling news.

"In a way... " he replied cryptically, returning the smile as he stuffed his freezing hands into his pockets.

Bane had at first, refused. Adamant that she didn't need to go gallivanting about the city even if his second in command was with her. That she was fine right were she was, at least until Barsad started to argue his point. He knew that he was angering Bane, that he was crossing a line, hell, he thought he'd lost the argument until he mentioned how happy it would make her, to have a few of her own things here with her. That's when something flickered within Banes eyes, his shoulders dropping a little as he released one deep hissing breath from behind the mask and frowned. Off in thought for a moment before turning to Barsad, and quite simply saying that he was to be with her at all times, to make the journey quick, and then not so subtly relayed what would happen if anything untoward should befall the little nurse. Barsad had nodded, accepting full responsibility with a stone cold expression, though inside he was beyond curious, desperate to ask questions that would sooner get him killed than get him answers. So he kept his mouth shut, remaining content with Banes continuing odd behavior. Deciding that, for now, it would have to do as proof that his manipulative little plan wasn't completely impossible.

And that led him here, walking slowly down one of the many streets covered in a dusting of snow. Riffle slung across his back as he let May lead the way to her old home.

"I still cant believe it" she says back to him, shaking her head softly, her breathe coming out in faded wisps of steam. After accepting that she was probably never going to see the light of day again, it really had been a surprise.

Bane seemed like the least likely of men to allow her such a thing, but he had... and she didn't understand. Men like him... men like him didn't give out gifts, they didn't _give_ anything. All they do, all they say is for power and control. Stripping away any freedom and happiness, because, what made a better prisoner than one with absolutely nothing. And May was good at being that person. The weak one, the pathetic thing that had nothing, was nothing, and received nothing. It was how these things worked, and she had expected no less from the monstrous man now occupying her city. Why should she? Despite the odd things that have been happening, and the strange ways he was behaving with her, and the even more insane ways she was responding. It didn't change the fact that he ruled with violence, that he took what he wanted, from whom he wanted, when he wanted it. May scowls to herself as the thought slides through her mind, tugging her coat tighter around her shivering body.

She'd been thinking a lot lately that something was fundamentally wrong with her, and her current thoughts attended to that. She just gave herself proof, (aside form all the horrible things she's witnessed with her own eyes), of the monster Bane is. Proof that she should be trying to escape, trying to run away right now. It is only her and Barsad after all, it couldn't be that hard to give him the slip. Its what she should do, its what anyone in their right mind would be desperately trying to achieve... but, apparently she isn't in her right mind. And aside from the fact that she was wanted for murder, she was completely lacking the desire for her own freedom. Even more than her desire to stay off the cops radar (if they even still cared what with Banes terrorism and all) was this small, quiet yearning she was trying hard to smother. No, she didn't want to escape, she wanted to go back.

"You alright?"

Barsad's gruff voice penetrated the mental tornado her thoughts were becoming and she snapped her eyes to him. Flashing him a small smile way to quickly and to uncharacteristically cheerful to be anything but fake.

"Oh, uh, yeah... I'm good" she nods at him, and to herself before looking at the tall, looming buildings around them, and realized that they traveled a lot farther than she had expected.

"Where almost there, just another block or so"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The sweat stung as it ran down the back of his neck, sliding down behind the collar of his jacket as his heart pounded out his fear. He shouldn't be doing this, he thinks, stepping off the elevator and onto the eleventh floor. He stops here, just for a second and looks around the extravagant common room and wonders if he should just turn back around. But Talia's threat still looms strong in the forefront of his mind, and its like she's there with him, holding a gun to the back of his head.

He almost laughs at his own weakness, sure Bane would dispose of him simply for the short coming and the insult it smeared on the League of Shadows. But maybe he could come out of this with his life, if was just fast and quiet enough. With that thought in mind, the soldier ventures onward, peaking in the few doorways he passes along the way. Most he wont bother with when it appears that the nurse hasn't even stepped foot in them. Like the kitchen and an office; the bathroom he takes a few moments in. Ignoring his reflection as he searches through the cabinets for something, for anything that might give I've him news for Talia. Though, he still isn't sure about exactly what it is he is looking for.

Gently placing everything back to where he found it the soldier pauses before leaving the room. His ears straining past his panicking heartbeat to the space beyond the pale green tilled walls.

_I'm getting paranoid_, he thinks and pushes his way out, and just like he was hoping, the place is empty. Next he makes his way into her room, hesitating before turning on the light. She's definitely in here the most he thinks, taking in the scattered dirty clothing and rumpled bed sheets. Something about being in the girls private quarters like this is both frightening and a little exciting though he stamps that down and begins his search a new.

- 15 minutes later-

He's been in here to long and he's burning hot in his fear of being caught. The sweat now pooling along the ridges and creases of his brow as he wipes at it with the back of his sleeve. He'd be long gone by now, he'd almost left, after a lengthy search had turned up nothing all that personal, but just as he was putting her pillows back in place his fingertips grazed against something that shouldn't have inside the covers. His pulse accelerated when he reached inside and felt the ridges of a few pieces of paper and pulled.

A small stack of crumpled note paper, wrinkled further in his grasp as he straightens them out. The first few held a couple bad doodles on them, nothing more than stick figures and copious amounts of daisy like flowers, but the last three had printing running unevenly across the surface and he smiled. This had to be something, he thinks, and flips on the light again. He sits down on the bed, and smooths them out on his thigh.

The soldier is about to read them, his eyes making out the first few words when something from outside the room draws his attention with sharp pang of fear shooting straight down his spine.

Its the elevator chime.

His head whips towards the door, then to the light before landing on the papers in his hand. His mind screaming at him to leave them and run as he stands.

_Fuck Talia and her stupid mission._

He turns, ripping the pillow off the bed and tries to stuff the papers back inside. Each beat of his drumming heart felt like the executioners march.

Boom, Boom, Boom.

"Fuck..." he hisses, watching as three sheets fall to the ground and just as he bends to pick them up the door swings open.

His eyes crash to two large, frightened hazel orbs, and the pale stunned face of the nurse. She takes a step back, her gaze darting between the intruder in her room and the way she had just come, and he knows she's going to run before she drops the bags she had been carrying.

He's on her in the next second, one hand clamping down hard over her mouth, killing off the scream that pealed from her throat. The girl thrashes wildly against him and his grabs a fistful of her hair. Anger and rage mix sickeningly with his own terror and he doesn't know what to do. He cant let her go, she'll run straight to Bane... but if he kills her...

_Kill her, shit, I have to kill her._

The soldiers grip on her tightens and he drags the nurse to the floor with him. The hand over her mouth shifts so he's covering her nose to, and pushes down. Her eyes bulge even wider, the muffled screams dampen the palm of his hand as he winds the fist in her hair around her neck. His legs now wrapped around hers to keep her from kicking him.

He tells himself this is what's necessary, that no one will know its him. He can still fix this mess, and probably win even more favor with Talia in the process. He tightens even more, grunting with the effort just as she falls limp in his arms. The heavy, hot, panting breaths cease on his hand just before removing it, and letting her gently slump to the floor. His brow furrows, his chest heaving with the strain as he kneels above her. Wondering about what to do now... wrap her up in a carpet, they are up pretty high and he's terrified of being spotted.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit" he breathes, looking around desperately for something, anything to help him. The next second he's back in the room, ripping the quilt from her bed, his mind ragging so loud that he doesn't hear the shuffling from behind him. He cant feel the presence inch closer till something hard and heavy collides with the back of his skull with a horrible crunch. He screams and spins around. One hand clutching at the blood now running down the back of his neck well he strikes out with his fist, catching the nurse in her cheek bone so hard her head cracks against the door frame, her hands dropping the glass paperweight she'd plucked form the side table next to the door.

"Fuck!" he grunts, stumbling towards her as she stumbles back, gives him one last withering look before turning and running as best she can for the elevator.  
>He swears again and tries to make after her, but everything looks hazy. The door doubles dizzyingly as he tries to pass through, catching his foot on the jam and falls into the hallway.<br>By the time he's standing again, she's gone.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Without thinking May jams the button for the floor directly above her. Her heart pounding loud and thick in her throat, in her ears, in the flesh of her swollen cheek. Fear and terror propel her as she practically hops on the spot, eyes glued to the glowing numbers and a second later the door is sliding open.

In this moment, as she's nearly running down the master floor towards the last place she saw the enigmatic leader, May isn't wondering why he is the first person she runs to. She's frantic in her flee for safety, flying past other rooms and sitting areas, heading strait for the library near the back and all but crashes into the room.

The heavy door banging loudly against the wall as she looks around wildly for the masked man, but finds nothing but empty space.

He's not here

Something in her chest caves, not much, but enough that something wretched and sorrowful tears from her lips. Something like a sob with no tears, though her eyes shine bright.

May takes a step further in the room, her gaze flicking to the cold fire place then to the couch and chair before it. She shouldn't go sit down, she should leave and wait patiently for his return, but she just cant. A deep exhaustion settles within her bones as she starts to make her way over the cushioned reading chair, her thoughts turning muddy as she tries to get the sour stink of her attacker from her mind. His heavy panting as he tried to wring the life from her an echo in her ears.

Curling up in the soft chair May's fingers twitch, something deeper and darker whispers beyond the fresh memories ricocheting around her skull.

Screams and the foggy memory of spit and blood.

Its not long after that she falls into a fitful sleep, nightmares and monsters are haunting her dreams.

Its almost exactly at that moment that Barsad, noticing that May had left some things with him by mistake travels up to her rooms and walks in on the soldier just as the man is trying to leave. He calls for her immediately before cracking the man in the face with the butt of his gun.

"MAY!" he yells louder as the soldier falls in a crumpled heap at his feet. There's no answer, and his own panic hammers within him at the amount of blood he sees smeared across the floor, a second later he rips out his phone and makes a call.

"Sir, something's happened... just hurry up to May's floor" he doesn't get a chance to say more as Bane severs the connection.


	12. Blind

Hey everyone, new chapter yay. And Im really sorry this took so long, you know how it goes, job, kids... never ending seas of lego. Anyhoo, I hope you all enjoy, this was a pretty sticky chapter for me. :)

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

I am in a sea of wonders,

I doubt; I fear; I think

strange things which I dare not

confess to my own soul.

_Dracula_

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Bane cant remember the last time he felt such hatred. His blood boiled with it, racing through the wide planes of his body as his muscles tightened and coiled. Staring down upon one of his own, a soldier of The League of Shadows. The mans face, Reynolds, his name is, is slick with sweat and fear as his eyes bulge out and up at his Leader.

Reynolds had begged for his life the second Bane came into view; had groveled on his knees like the weak and pathetic swine he is, as Barsad turned and left, leaving him at the terrible mercy of a man without compassion.

"Please...p-please Sir, I-I-I... she came at me, ATTACKED ME!" Reynolds had screamed, pink spit flying from his lips. It was disgusting.

"Silence"

Bane stopped a foot before him, his voice, low and dangerous, sliced through the sour air, and studied the soldier for a moment. The bulging biceps in his arms flexing just as he bent down, his movements stiff along his spine.

Reynolds let out a cry, his heart hammering violently within his throat as he tried to back peddle away from the monster above him, but he was to slow. They're always to slow.

Banes massive fist is crushing his larynx, his pleas turned to strangled gasps. His face turning a sickening red and purple till Bane squeezed quick and hard, the bones in Reynolds necks crushed and cracked, ringing out loud around them.

His leader huffs, tense and unsatisfied as he lets the dead man fall to the floor in a undignified heap, looking at the dark wet blood bathing the back of Reynolds neck and clothing, and began to follow its trail down the hallway.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"He was just... there, I was so surprised, and-and I was going to leave, run but I was to slow" May struggles, her hands wringing tightly in her lap as she avoided Barsad's stare.

"I hit him after that... when he turned around, when-well, I guess he thought I was dead" she sounds strained, tired, her eyes drawn and heavy; one more puffy than the other as her cheek swells and darkens with the coming bruise. It hurts to talk, it hurts to breath. Her throat aches and burns as she tries to swallow past it.

"You did what was necessary" he tells her. He wishes he had more to say, something to sooth her as she tries so desperately to comfort herself, but the words don't come. She had done what was necessary, she had defended her life, but he wonders if she'll still feel that way after Bane kills him. People have a tendency to take on guilt that doesn't belong to them, and May seemed like the kind of woman to horde it.

She is about to speak when Barsad phone rings and her gaze follows the mans hand as he reaches in his pocket for it before swiping it on. She knows who it is as his face drops the emotion that had been leaking through, and she shifts with unease in the chair. Her fingers never ceasing in their rhythm, rubbing circles in the other hands palm.

"Yes sir, May is with me... in your quarters..." Barsad sighs as the connection is severed and slips the phone back into his pocket, wondering if he should be worried about May when Bane arrives but squashes the thought as soon as it comes. As angry as he may be right now, Barsad doesn't think he would hurt her.

_Don't be stupid, _a small voice in the back of his mind whispers_,_ _when has Bane ever been sympathetic... or kind_.

He sighs, rolling his shoulders as he begins to pace the floor in front if May, both of their attentions trained to the doors of the library. He is different with her... this could be a step forward, move things along a little faster. Yes, he muses, and hopes that he is not mistaken.

To be honest, Barsad had been a little surprised to find the nurse curled up and asleep in Banes rooms. He had thought she would run to himself, being one of the only people she seems comfortable around, but this, her choice, spoke volumes to where her desires lay. Hidden or not, aware of them or not. It didn't matter; when her life had been threatened she ran for Bane...

Think of the devil and he shall appear.

May stiffens as the heavy doors swing open; Barsad turns, arms now crossed at his chest and frowns with renewed concern at the look of fury etched into his Leaders face. Both remain silent as he approaches. His eyes, cold as always, are trained on May. Confusion and fear grip her as she pushes back into the chair, as if she'll suddenly fade into the cushions and out of his war path. But it doesn't happen, and in the next second he is standing before her, completely ignoring the imploring stare Barsad is giving him.

"The blood of that man, is on you're hands" His words growled and hissed in the air between the three of them, and May eyes widened with Barsads, their thoughts mirroring the other. How could he possibly think that?

"W-what? Why?" May squeaked out, her distress and pain worming around in her gut; sickened with herself for the expectation that he would even hold the slightest bit of sympathy for her. He's Bane, the ruthless leader of a gang of assassins, and she's nothing more than a prisoner... and now one of his soldiers is dead in her quarters. May's lips tightened into a thin line when she realized she had been hoping that he'd hold her above the man that attacked her. It was stupid and so naive.

_Why cant you do it RIGHT? You stupid, worthless, cunt._

May swallowed hard as that voiced echoed around in her skull. Repeating itself, over and over again as she started to grind her teeth. The lump in her throat grew, hard and painful as she tried to breath around it, and stared up at Bane as he spoke to her.

"You shouldn't have my men visiting your room_ nurse_, and I will not allow it"

Barsad stepped forward, his lips parting as anger bubbled up in his chest but one withering glance from Bane had him stopped in his tracks. Hating himself for his loyalty in that moment, torn between standing by his Leader and defending the girl that has befriended him. But, like always, and like he will always do, he stands beside Bane.

"You will stay here now, and you are only to leave when attending clinical duties," his eyes cut to Barsad for a moment before baring down upon May again, " do not leave unattended or there will be consequences... do you understand".

Mays mouth opened and closed, unable to formulate a response that would make sense. Her inner turmoil burning within her as her heart clenched, hating that he thought of her like she was some kind of cheap whore, hating that what he thought of her bothered her so much.

_So say something_, Barsad had understood, and May prayed Bane would as well.

"T-thats not what happa- "Do not explain!" Bane snapped, the timber of his voice a deep and dangerous bark from behind his mask and May flinched.

"I do not wish to hear you're excuses, and I will not repeat myself" he straightens to his full height and takes a step back while motioning for Barsad to follow as he leaves her, shaking on the chair beside the empty fire place.

She wanted to shout at him, to call out after Bane as he walked away, but May could no longer force the words out from between the dry skin of her lips, her throat working, trying desperately to swallow down the terrible knot of pain that just kept on getting worse. Left to just sit there and watch him leave.

Barsad waits till the doors shut behind them, trying to keep pace with the infuriated Bane as he takes a deep breath. Hoping that he isn't about to make a mistake.

"That was unnecessarily cruel", he watches as the rolling muscles in Banes shoulders flex and stiffen but he doesn't stop till they reach the elevator. Bane turns, and without having to say the word, stops Barsad from following him on.

"The little nurse should not have made such disappointing choices then" he grounds out and steps onto the lift as its doors ding open and the cab dips and groans under his weight. This only angers Barsad even more, and he can feel the control over himself slip a little bit more as he tries to keep his tone passive.

"May was with me all day Bane, you know that. I took the elevator up immediately after she did and thats what I found... how could you think she was inviting men back to her rooms... its ridiculous, and you know how many of our soldiers can be in regards to woman-"

"Enough!" Bane whips at him, ending Barsad's growing tirade. Irritated and angered by the strange surging pressure in his chest that had only been getting worse with each minute that passed. Almost aching right beneath his breast bone, like some small tumor grew within the tissue, hidden. He doesn't understand what it is, like something that had been snatched away from him before he could even know it was there. Not until all that was left was this horrid, dull pain, and for that simple fact he hates it. So anger surges forth in its place, suffocating the oddity before it can corrupt him further.

"Stay here until I return... and keep you're distance Barsad", and then he's gone. The elevator doors sliding shut behind him and Barsad is left staring at the carved and gilded doors with frustrated anger in his eyes before turning around and heading back to the library. Hoping that the strange fury he saw within his leaders eyes was more akin to something like jealousy than anything else, though it was hard to tell. Bane may have been unreasonable, but in retrospect he didn't behave any differently than he would at any other time... Barsad had just been hoping for something considerately less hostile, less blame and more understanding. But then again, he thinks that right now, that's asking for more than Bane might be capable of.

On another note though, he had all but condemned May to Bane's own living space. And to what, keep an eye on her? That seemed incredibly excessive if May was truly nothing more than a replaceable nurse. Especially when it would be easier to just lock her away in a room somewhere else with a guard posted. But Bane had decided on none of those things.

Barsad huffs as he walks slow back towards the library. Images of his wards swelling face play across his minds eye and his hands fist at his side. He should be happier about this development, but Barsad cant conjure the feeling, not when his own guilt sits so heavily upon his shoulders. She wont be happy about this, and he knows without even asking, that anymore 'outings' are completely off the table, that any form of freedom has just disintegrated into dust.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Talia could feel the rage boil in her veins. Reynolds was due to contact her nearly two days ago and she has received nothing but silence.

_Stupid coward,_ she hisses within the confines of her mind, eyes narrowing as she looks out at the crowd of ragged refugee's, of Gotham's once rich and powerful. Stuck to living in dilapidated little hovels. It maddened her, though necessary as it was. Talia simply wasn't used to living in such squaller anymore; not since her infiltration into the dregs of this government. And though she would never admit it aloud, she loved it. Loved the lifestyle, the clothing. The money.

That was something Bane would never understand, could never grasp at how much better money made everything. She had tried, had tried to show it to him; bought him beautiful leathers and furs, but he never once wore any of her gifts, and after shoving it all back in her face would remain in his military garb and that ratty old coat.

Talia shifted in her seat as her irritation became smothering. If only Bane would listen to her, everything would run so much more smoothly; she is the head of The League after all, but he doesn't listen. Not anymore, not like he should, and some how it has something to do with that fucking little girl he has locked away up there.

_Yes, that's it_, she thinks, _just stay focused on the girl and the plan will stay its coarse..._

"How are you doing Ms. Tate" a deep voice breaks the ranting in her head and Talia's eyes intently loose their harsh glint as she looks up at the young man whom she's come to know as Detective Blake and smiled with the sweetest, kindest smile she could muster.

"Oh, alright... considering, how are the others coping".

Blake smiles back as he crouches down beside her.

"As well as can be expected, though I wish we had some kind of plan of attack..." he looks down at his shoes for a moment before glancing over at the Sargent and the men he's speaking to.

"Everything we try, Bane is always a step ahead... I don't get it"

Talia's smile grows as an idea begins to form.

"You know... and this may be nothing, but I saw that girl, the one that was with him at the stock exchange... I saw her leaving Dagget tower, on a few separate occasions" she has Blake's attention now and watches with satisfaction as his jaw grinds.

"I cant believe I never thought of it till now, but I bet we could nab her next times she's out an about... I have a feeling, if anyone would know how to get to Bane, it would be her".

Blake nods, rubbing a hand across the rough stubble on his cheeks.

"OK... ok, Ill post someone to keep watch outside of the building, tail her when she does leave..." his eyes cut her then, a frown at his lips, "and you're sure about this information?".

Talia almost scoffed, sure? Of coarse she's sure.

"Oh, yes, a pretty girl to, hard not to notice you know... sticks out like a sore thumb against all those thugs"

Blake smiles and thanks her, completely overlooking the odd and impeccable timing of her sighting, but desperate times called for desperate measures and Talia knew how bad Blake and the others were fairing in their tasks. So, a little shove in the right direction and everyone won out in the end. Bane will see, he will understand and be grateful for the lengths she had taken... he just cant now, not with that wretch there to cloud his judgment.

"Ok, thank Ma'am, you know... I think Ill check it out for myself" Blake replies as he stands with renewed energy. His blood racing, giddy with excitement at the thought of finally getting his hands on the elusive, murderess, Maybelle Evans.

... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ...

She feels hollow in the wake of Banes anger and hateful words; even though he had done nothing but be himself. And now, sitting here, staring into the flames within the hearth before her May can see now how foolish she had been to even, as small as the hope was, expect anything more from him. His strange behavior with her in the recent weeks doesn't mean anything. And now she's waiting, but May cant figure out what for, aware of her solitude now more than ever, of how alone she truly is; even Barsad's presence standing guard behind her doesn't chase away the penetrating cold that shivers across her skin. Haunted by the demons of her memories and a deep seeded shame. Some how it is her fault, the death of that man. May cant ignore that, even as she tries to forget Bane's horrible accusations, she cant stop the trail her thoughts are now rolling down; that if she's only been a little more cautious... more careful he'd still be alive.

May had always been vigilant, always hyper-aware, until her capture ironically. After her imprisonment within Bane's strong hold, she had begun to relax though she realizes now that she hadn't even been aware it was happening; until it was to late.

_Always fucking shit up May, no wonder no one wants you around anymore._

May twitched and shuddered, her fingers rubbing small circles against the palm of her other hand. Unaware or ,maybe just ignoring Barsad's vigilant presence as he paced the length of the library behind her, each of them waiting for Bane's return.


End file.
